The Worthless Treasure
by Ayu Ohseki
Summary: [COMPLETE] What if Sync hadn't fallen into the core? What if he'd been taken captive by Luke and the others instead? A series of side stories.
1. Still Standing

There were times in Ion's life where, even without the Score, it felt like he could see the future.

"_Escape from here with us! You and I are the same!_" he'd said, holding out his hand.

Sync had slapped it away and replied, "_No, we're not._"

Ion hadn't actually lowered his hand as the other Fon Master replica had stood and begun to back away. Despite having already received his answer, he kept it upraised, as if somehow continuing to make the offer would change reality. But as he watched Sync retreat closer and closer to the edge of the Tartarus, listened to words that burned themselves into his mind, Ion felt a premonition of doom stronger than anything he'd ever felt in his brief life.

"_I'm only alive so Van can use me._"

And yet he remained rooted to the spot, unable to tear his gaze away. _Someone stop him, please!_ he pleaded uselessly in the confines of his head. Nobody moved. Ion felt like he could see several seconds ahead, see Sync falling off the deck into the crushing depths of the core. He could see it so clearly, so brilliantly, that it felt like his whole body was on fire.

"In the end, only those of us who are useful -"

"_Stop!_" Ion cried, stretching out his hand as if he might stop him from several feet away.

"- are kept alive out of pity. And now my role is over."

Sync's angry, bitter expression changed. How, exactly, Ion couldn't put a finger on; there was so much he still didn't understand about feelings, let alone other people's feelings. Was it regret? Was it sadness? Or was it something else entirely?

Then, as if in slow motion, he began to tilt backwards and disappear from view.

The next instant was a blur to Ion. He hadn't seen any of the others move in the instant that he'd cried out, but all of a sudden Luke and Guy had left Ion's side and gone to Sync's. They'd both grabbed one of his hands each at the same time. Without anything to brace themselves against, they quickly dropped to one knee to try to keep him from falling off the Tartarus. They began to slide towards the edge, but at the same time, without either conferring with the other, Luke and Guy began to drag the unwilling God-General back up.

"What're you doing? Let me go!" Sync's astonished voice rang out. His arms tensed, as if he were trying to pull away.

"Hrrngh! Stop _struggling_!" Luke yelled.

"Just let us pull you up, you dumb bastard!" Guy snapped through gritted teeth.

Sync's hands twisted around and gripped their wrists. "Then I'm taking you both with me," he growled.

"Luke! Guy! No!" Natalia cried, and the sound of her voice snapped Ion out of his stupor.

"Anise, please!" Ion pleaded.

At the same time, Tear called, "Anise, use Tokunaga!"

"I'm on it!" Anise affirmed, as much to Ion as to Tear, and dropped her stuffed fonic weapon onto the deck.

Ion could barely breathe as he watched Anise lumber over on Tokunaga's back as Luke and Guy both slid forward, unable to brace themselves against anything as the God-General dragged them down. Natalia nocked an arrow, but Tear grabbed her arm and murmured something to her while Jade began to cast a fonic arte.

_If there's anyone down here to listen, please - please,_ Ion pleaded, _please, let us save him!_

In the next instant, Anise reached the end, and Tokunaga's long, enormous arms swept down and scooped Sync, Guy, and Luke all back to safety. Natalia lowered her bow, Jade canceled his arte, and Ion breathed again, a desperate smile beginning to crease his face.

He started to hurry forward. He stopped when he felt a hand clasp his shoulder, and looked up to see Jade, who met his eyes and shook his head.

"He won't be pleased to have been captured," he murmured. "It's best you keep your distance until we have him properly secured."

"I-I understand," Ion replied, though he wished he didn't.

Jade, as usual, was right. Sync staggered up to his feet, breath still labored from his defeat only a few minutes earlier - to Ion, it seemed like it had been an eternity ago - and glared murderously at the people who now surrounded him.

"You'll regret that," he swore, pulling a previously-hidden Oracle Knights throwing dagger from the sleeve of his jacket. His green eyes fixed on Luke, who had also gotten to his feet, and his hand flicked up to throw.

Guy plowed into him, sending Sync's throw wild. Luke was left with a scratch and an expression of shock. The God-General, though injured, still struggled under Guy's pin, and might have managed to throw him off had it not been for seven words:

"_Tue rei ze croa riou tue ze..._"

The soporific power of Tear's fonic hymn coursed through Sync's body, and tense seconds later, he slowed and went still. Guy cautiously eased back and off, but Nightmare was as effective as ever.

"Geez. I didn't think he still had that much fight left in him," Luke remarked, still sounding shocked. He touched his wounded cheek with a wince.

"We're out of time," Jade said, voice carrying across the deck. "Tear and I may have managed to repair the fonic glyph while the rest of you fought, but we need to get into the Albiore _immediately_ if we want to survive."

"Jade's right. I'll take care of Sync," Guy volunteered, pulling the unconscious God-General onto his back. "Let's get out of here!"

They got two steps to the airship before Luke dropped to his knees from one of his usual migraines. When Tear went to heal him, she was possessed by an entity claiming humanity knew it as Lorelei...

Ion stared wordlessly as the previously-theoretical aggregate consciousness spoke unto them. As it did, he came up behind Guy and rested a tentative hand on Sync's back. Lorelei had been among them all along. Had Lorelei granted his unspoken wish...?

Ion never got the chance to ask. Once Lorelei had vanished mid-sentence from Tear's body a mere moment later, all they could do was get onto the Albiore and take off.

It worried him. There was a lot to worry him, now. When they were all buckled up and in the air, Ion kept his eyes on his hands, folded in his lap. There weren't enough seats in the cockpit to actually seat all of them, and normally that wasn't a problem, but Noelle had warned them that with how fast and hard she'd have to fly, it would be dangerous to not be in a proper seat. The group had thus split up.

He, Anise and Natalia were in the passenger room, which felt larger and emptier than usual for it only having the three of them. Jade, Luke and Mieu were all in the cockpit with Noelle. Guy and Tear weren't in either group; they'd left to secure Sync in one of the airship holds, Tear much against everyone else's protests in the wake of Lorelei's possession. She'd won the argument when she pointed out that if Sync awoke before they'd gotten him secure, she was the only one who could reliably put him back to sleep. Ion prayed they were all right.

A tentative touch on his wrist pulled him out of his thoughts. He turned to see Anise, who sat next to him, and Natalia, on Anise's other side, giving him a worried look.

"Ion, are you okay?" his Guardian asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," he replied, forcing himself to smile at them.

She looked unconvinced. "Only... you were crying, earlier."

"What?"

Anise pointed to his cheeks. Ion touched them and felt the remains of wetness. He stared at his fingertips, then wiped his eyes, where more remained.

"You're right," he murmured, surprised. "This is the first time in my life I've ever cried."

"You must have been so glad that we managed to save Sync," Natalia remarked, smiling sympathetically at him. "It would have been awful to lose someone like a brother just as you learned you had him."

Ion didn't have to consider her words to know they were true. He nodded. "It felt like I could see him going over the edge before it happened," he said. "I kept calling in my mind for someone to stop him."

"Wow, really?" Anise uttered, brown eyes widening.

"And then Luke and Guy did exactly that," Natalia said. "Perhaps Lorelei was listening to your wish."

"I wondered the same thing," Ion murmured.

"Luke was the first one who started running for him," Anise pointed out. "If Lorelei's been talking to him all this time, maybe Lorelei put it in his head somehow."

"Oh my! You may be right, Anise," Natalia uttered, moving a hand up to cover her mouth.

Ion shook his head. "I don't know. But I'm glad Luke did it, and that Guy helped him." He squeezed his hands in his lap and steeled himself. "Is it... all right if I apologize?"

"Why, whatever for?" Natalia wondered, tilting her head.

"I've been lying to all of you about who I am," Ion replied glumly. "I'm not really the Fon Master. I'm just one of his replicas..."

"That doesn't bother me," Anise reassured him. "You're the only Ion I've ever known."

"Yes. What's more, you've always done your utmost to support the people and bring about peace," Natalia said, smiling at him. "Replica or no, you're a fine Fon Master and a wonderful human being. It is my honor to be able to call you friend."

"Right!" Anise cheered. "Don't let it get you down, Ion. It wasn't your fault!"

A relieved smile crept onto the replica's face. "You'll still call me Ion...?"

"Of course! Like I said, you've always been Ion to me!"

Ion never thought being called by someone else's name would make him so happy. Basking in Anise's sunshine-warm smile, hearing her reassurances, gave him the feeling that there couldn't be any greater happiness than this. Natalia's support truly warmed his heart as well. He returned both of their smiles with full sincerity.

"Thank you, Anise. Thank you, Natalia. Thank you both so much," he murmured. "I'm so happy to have true friends like you."

Anise's cheeks turned pink. "O-of course! I'll always be there for you, Ion...!"

"It's the least I could do. You've always been a true friend to me," Natalia added. "Being kidnapped by Daath was a trying experience, but having you there too heartened me."

"The same goes for me," Ion replied. He hesitated for a second. "If I may...?" When they nodded him on, he bowed his head. "I know this is changing the subject a bit, and I'm sorry, but... I've actually wanted to sit down and talk to Sync for a long time - ever since he used that curse slot seal on Guy."

"You must have realized right away what that meant," Natalia said.

Ion nodded. "I didn't had the nerve to try when he helped transport me to the Sephiroth in the Zao Ruins. But... seeing him without his mask... Hearing how much pain he's been in..."

"Ion..." Anise murmured.

He swallowed hard, then looked up at his friends. "Listening to him, I realized I don't want to be anyone's replacement. I want to live as myself. But at the same time, I can't just stop being the Fon Master... and even if I could, I don't want to." He rested his hand over Anise's. "Being Fon Master Ion has brought me pain, but it's also let me meet so many wonderful people. I wouldn't trade that for anything."

"I-Ion...!" Anise murmured again, now blushing.

Ion smiled at her, encouraged. "So if there's anything I can do for Sync, I want to do it," he continued. "Maybe one day, he can look back on today and be glad he didn't fall into the core."

Anise grimaced, the pink draining from her cheeks. "I hate to be a downer, but one day' is an awful long time away. Right now, I dunno if he's going to want you to," she pointed out, tone dubious. "He was so angry and bitter. He nearly dragged Luke and Guy down with him!"

"I doubt he'll have any remorse for it, either," Natalia mused, touching her chin. "I sympathize with the difficult life he must have led as a replica, but that doesn't change how absolutely shameless he is. You've seen this for yourself, Fon Master Ion."

"I know, and I have, but please," Ion pleaded. "I have to do _something_."

"I understand," Natalia replied, lowering her hand. "When it comes to someone who's like family..." She averted her eyes. "...you really can't just ignore them."

Anise sighed. Between Ion's pleas and Natalia's point about family - one she understood well herself - there wasn't any way she'd be able to refuse, even if she'd wanted to. "Okay, Ion," she conceded. "But when you talk to him, I want to be there, okay?" Concern shadowed her face. "There's no telling what he might decide to do when he wakes up."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Ion replied, a small, relieved smile peeking out from his lips. "Thank you, Anise. I feel a lot better knowing you'll be there, too."

Even so, though, Ion couldn't quite shake a certain sense of trepidation.

_I'm not interested in the naive babbling of a replica who has people who need him._

Was that really how Sync viewed them?

Was that really how Sync viewed himself...?

* * *

**NOTES:**

Welcome, readers! _The Worthless Treasure_ is based largely on the video game version of _Tales of the Abyss_ with use of or reference to various side materials, but it has influences from the anime as well. For example, Sync's "And now my role is over" line is exclusive to the anime, but only in the video game does he slap Ion's hand away. Generally speaking, you'll see me use anime-only stuff where it adds to the story rather than subtracts from it. However, I will streamline events where possible and where it doesn't otherwise interfere with the story - see Jade and Tear fixing the fonic glyph while the others are fighting Sync, as opposed to Luke, Tear and Jade doing that after the battle.

Also, you may have noticed that the description of the interior of the Albiore is somewhat off. This is on purpose. The anime explicitly shows that the Albiore isn't very big, and while the video game doesn't make it super-clear one way or another, it's probably about the same size. However, the video game also has Noelle transporting the young, sick, elderly and most of the women of Engeve to Chesedonia in just one or two trips, so it's not unreasonable to say that it's decently large... or at least, that's my excuse. In short, the Albiore is depicted in this story as being a lot bigger than it probably actually is for the sake of narrative convenience. I hope that doesn't bug any of you too much.


	2. Back in the Picture

_It was a short and pointless life,_ Sync thought as he stared down the seventh Ion and the companions who cared about him. _And in the end, I gained nothing but pain._

It wasn't a decision so much as a foregone conclusion. He spread his arms and tilted back to accept the yawning abyss.

But that wasn't what happened.

* * *

When Sync woke up, he was in a room he'd never seen before. He tried to move his arms and legs, but they were tied fast: his arms behind his back, against what felt like a pole, and his legs to the chair in which he was seated. Groggy as he was, comprehension was slow to dawn, even as he peered around the room. Instead, he assessed facts. He was alone, and judging by the light, there was a window somewhere at his back. The door was shut, possibly locked. Wiggling his hands and feet to test his bonds, he realized his gloves and boots were gone, and the more he shifted, the more he realized his concealed knives had been confiscated too.

All of it, gradually layered up through his brain fog, totaled one painfully obvious conclusion: he'd been captured. As the fog cleared the longer he was awake, he remembered what had happened in the core, and the rest of the picture filled in.

"Ugh," he groaned, tilting his head back. His hands and feet had been tied well; there wasn't room to try to squeeze out. Even if he had, he didn't have any of his weapons, and while as a martial artist and fonist, Sync was never truly unarmed, his chances of getting away weren't good.

_Then again, what's it matter if I get away?_ he thought. _All that's going to matter to Van is that the idiot replica and his friends weren't stopped. I was supposed to die down there._ He shut his eyes. _I'm even a failure at dying. It'd be funny if it wasn't so pathetic._

The twinges in his empty stomach suggested it'd been several hours since the battle in the core. The fact that he didn't twinge anywhere else suggested that someone had gone to the trouble of healing his wounds. Which made sense, he guessed, as much as any of this made sense. If they were going to go to the trouble of stopping him from falling into the core, then they may as well heal him. Wherever he was, the room didn't feel like it was in motion, the air pressure felt normal for the Outer Lands, and the light streaming in at his back had the quality of natural sunlight, so they'd probably returned safely.

All he could do at this point was wait, so wait he did.

Wait, and think, and plan.

* * *

When she'd begun her journey, Tear had been prepared to die to kill her brother. Having heard Dr. Shu's prognosis, it had hit home to her just how likely that really was. So long as they continued on their quest, her condition would inevitably worsen. Yet if they didn't continue, her brother would destroy the world. As a choice, it was both simple and straightforward.

But it had been much harder than Tear had thought.

She walked back to the inn in silence with Luke. As much as she'd wished he'd dropped it without a word... a large part of her felt touched that he'd refused to leave her alone. She peeked up at his face, then faced forward in time to miss Luke glancing down at her.

When they arrived, he hurried forward to open the door for her, which was both slightly annoying and flattering. Tear decided to let him do it, and thanked him as she entered. In return, she opened the door to the room they'd rented for the night, ignoring Luke's protests. The others were waiting for her there, and looked up from where they were respectively seated.

"Tear, are you all right?" Natalia asked, rising to her feet. "You and Luke took an awfully long time to get here."

"Yes, I'm fine," Tear reassured her, a response she'd repeated so many times during her life it was now rote. "We discussed everything, and just as I said before, I intend to continue our journey."

"Tear, is that really wise?" Guy said, gesturing with one hand. "We've still got several Sephiroth left to go."

"Wise or not, Tear is the only one who can operate the passage rings," Jade pointed out. "We need her to continue. She knows this as well."

"I know, but it's just so cruel," Natalia protested, lowering her chin.

Tear nodded. "I truly am grateful for everyone's concern, but we don't have time to worry about my health. Besides which, I'm not the only one who suffers by continuing on. Fon Master Ion still has to strain himself to open the Daathic seals."

Everyone looked over to Ion, who was seated next to Anise on one of the beds. He shook his head.

"I'm used to it," he protested, "and I'm fine so long as I rest afterwards. There's only three Sephiroth remaining, anyway."

"And I'll be fine," Tear countered, "as long as I take the medicine Dr. Shu prescribed."

"...All right," Ion conceded. "I know we can't stop you, but please, Tear, please be careful."

"Yeah," Luke chimed in, resting a hand on her shoulder. "We're all worried about you."

"I will."

"So! Now that that's settled, let's move onto the next item on the agenda," Jade said briskly, ignoring the glares that this statement drew from some of the others. "I'm sure I don't need to remind all of you that we need to figure out what to do with Sync before we can do anything else. Personally, I'd prefer to arrest him and be done with it, but his lack of nationality makes jurisdiction a sticky point."

"The usual protocol in a situation like this is to deliver the soldier to their homeland to be prosecuted by the country's leaders," Tear said, seizing the change in subject. "In this case, that would mean the Maestro Council, as Fon Master Ion isn't directly connected to the Oracle Knights. But that means delivering him straight back to my br-to Van, and Van isn't going to prosecute a loyal subordinate for following orders he himself gave."

Ion was instantly alert. "We can't deliver him to Daath. Van will have him killed!"

"Fon Master?" Tear uttered, blinking at the young boy.

"He's probably right," Guy said from where he leaned on the wall, arms folded, expression grim. "If what Sync said was accurate, Van was only keeping him alive because he was useful. And since he was supposed to erase the fonic glyph and kill us all, he probably was never meant to return to the surface. We _definitely_ weren't ever supposed to realize he was a replica of Ion, either."

"You figured it out, though, didn't you, Guy?" Ion said softly.

Guy nodded. "Yeah. I saw his face under the mask once. Add that to the fact that he could use Daathic fonic artes, and it was obvious."

"Guy! How could you not tell us something so important?" Natalia uttered.

"Sorry. But I wasn't sure if I should say," Guy apologized, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't know how Ion would take it, and I didn't want to upset him. I'm betting Jade figured it out, too." He gave the colonel a knowing look. "You never miss a trick, after all."

"The Daathic artes alone were a dead giveaway," Jade replied, shrugging. "Ion himself said that only a Fon Master can use them. But I kept my peace for similar reasons."

"I-I'm sorry, Natalia; I also realized," Tear admitted, taken aback. "I completely assumed you all had too. Between the Daathic artes and the fact that fomicry figures heavily into Van's plans... I never dreamed that Fon Master Ion was a replica, too, though."

"I had no idea either of them were replicas, so it was a total shock to me," Luke admitted. "I thought I was the only one."

"Somehow, I'm really not okay with being on Luke's level of noticing stuff," Anise grumbled.

Natalia sighed. "Indeed."

"Hey," Luke growled, glaring at the two.

"Aaanyway, getting back on track," Guy cut in, "this means Van's intended use for Sync is just about over. Sync said so himself. Knowing Van, I could see him using him one last time as a scapegoat-and knowing Sync, he'd just go along with it."

"Plus, if we take him back to Daath now, without his mask, him being a replica of Fon Master Ion will get around like wildfire," Anise pointed out. "There'll be a _huge_ commotion!"

"There's no reason we can't replace his mask, if it comes down to that," Jade stated. "And it's not our concern if he dies. It would have been best if he'd been left to commit suicide, as we'd have one less God-General to worry about, but there's no helping the past."

Guy immediately stood up straight. "Jade, that's going too far!"

"Jade, how can you say that?!" Luke yelled simultaneously.

"Colonel! Could you not?!" Anise snapped at the same time, holding Ion's shoulders.

Jade regarded the stricken look on Ion's face and adjusted his glasses. "My apologies."

"I don't think we should bring him back to Master Van," Luke continued as Guy and Anise settled. "He's a replica, just like me. Just like Ion!" He nodded at the green-haired boy. "I don't like him, but Sync can't help the way he was raised. He's only two years old! If _we_ aren't willing to cut him a break, who _will_?"

"Thank you, Luke," Ion murmured.

"I agree that we shouldn't simply deliver Sync to someone who'll kill him," Natalia said, "but he still needs to face justice."

Guy frowned in thought. "The problem with that is, who exactly is going to decide what justice is? If we can't bring him to Daath, the only places left are Kimlasca and Malkuth, and neither is a good option."

"Yes," Tear agreed. "If we delivered him to either country, Daath could sue to have their soldier returned as a prisoner of war. The same goes for Chesedonia. Their position would actually be even shakier because Daath enforces their independence. We'd be right back where we started at best, and spark a new war at worst."

"Ugh, this is such a mess," Anise complained. "Isn't there _anyone_ in Daath who could take responsibility for that little jerk? Ion, you're the Fon Master! Even if Sync's an Oracle Knight, couldn't you have him put in the custody of one of the Maestros who _isn't_ on the Grand Maestro or the Commandant's sides?"

"Even if I could, there's another concern that hasn't been addressed," Ion replied, hands clasped tight in his lap. "Legally speaking, replicas don't have rights. That includes the right to a fair trial."

The entire room went silent.

"The international law forbidding organic fomicry doesn't include any provisions for illegally created replicas," the young replica continued, barely a quaver in his voice. "In other words, just being a living replica could be construed as a crime. Mohs and Van know that. They could be tried for having practiced fomicry in the first place, but as far as Sync is concerned, they could do whatever they want to him and not face any consequences for it."

"That's horrible!" Natalia cried, aghast.

"Jade! We can't let that happen!" Luke insisted, turning towards the Malkuth soldier. "You know we can't!"

Jade didn't answer, which was answer enough in and of itself.

"What if we..." Guy began. Then he shook his head. "No, never mind. It'd never work."

"What? What is it?" Luke prodded.

"I was going to say, if that's the case, then Sync himself would be evidence of a crime," Guy continued reluctantly.

Natalia clapped her hands, eyes lighting with excited understanding. "Oh, I see! In other words, if we could get him to testify, that would be proof that Commandant Grants and Grand Maestro Mohs have broken the law! Then we could finally deal with Tear's brother and that vile clergyman once and for all without resorting to violence!"

"Sync would never consent to that," Jade pointed out. "We'll be lucky if he answers any of our questions when we interrogate him."

"He's a professional soldier, after all," Tear added, folding her arms. "He's not likely to willingly do anything that would help us."

"Exactly," Guy agreed. "I don't think he likes Van, but for whatever reason, he's going along with his outrageous plan for a replica world."

"Besides which, it wouldn't be any particular help anyway," Jade continued, shrugging again. "With the peace treaty signed, Mohs will be simple enough to handle once Van is dealt with, and Van wouldn't be deterred by a mere trial."

Natalia deflated. "So then what _do_ we do?"

"That's the million-gald question, isn't it?" Jade said.

"Well..." Anise said slowly, watching Ion's face. "When you think about it, we're the only people who know Sync's alive."

"What d'you mean?" Luke wondered. "Master Van would figure it out eventually, right?"

"Huh. Not necessarily," Guy mused.

"Yeah. Sync was completely prepared to die for his mission," Anise pointed out. "That's probably exactly what the Commandant was expecting out of him. I bet he wouldn't think we'd go out of our way to stop him, either."

"That's true," Jade conceded. "_I_ certainly didn't anticipate that."

"W-well, excuse me," Luke stammered. "I just... I think I understand a little of how he feels. Master Van..." He swallowed hard. "He only made me to use me, too. Maybe I didn't think everything through, but still..."

"I'm glad you didn't," Ion told him sincerely as Tear's eyebrows knitted together in concern. "Thank you, Luke. And thank you too, Guy. I know you don't have any reason to sympathize with Sync."

Guy rubbed the back of his neck. "The truth is, when I saw Luke running for him, I just started running too. I don't agree with suicide, ever. That's all I could think about at the time."

"The point is, we've now established that we have someone on our hands who wouldn't be missed, legally or otherwise, if he were to disappear," Jade stated. "There isn't much we can do with that information, though. There's few places in Auldrant that I trust to be secure enough to hold a God-General _and_ be accessible enough for him to be kept alive and in reasonable health, and we can't take him with us."

"Why can't we?"

Everyone looked at Luke. Even Ion was openly surprised. Luke reddened.

"Look, I know he's dangerous, and I know there's a million ways it could go wrong," he continued. "But what if we just... kept him as a prisoner but treated him like a person?"

"Luke, I get what you're trying to say," Guy replied, "but Sync doesn't even think of himself as a person. He called what you said to him 'naive babbling.'"

"Yeah, but that's exactly why!" Luke protested. "He thinks that way because it's everything he knows. But it doesn't have to be that way! I don't -" He visibly struggled for words, then threw his arms out. "I don't really know how to say it. I'm just not that smart. But I do know it isn't right for anybody to think they don't even deserve to live!"

"Luke..." Tear murmured.

"I agree with Luke," said Ion. "I don't know exactly what kind of life Sync had led up until now, but I don't want to turn my back on him."

"Even if he has no interest in your sympathy?" Jade asked.

Ion shook his head. "I know he won't appreciate it, but I'm not saying this because I want to be thanked. I just think he deserves better than the way he must have been treated."

"That's right," Luke piped in. "We're the only replicas in the world. We have to look out for each other."

"Yes," Ion said, nodding to him, "but it's more than that. I want Sync to have a chance to know what it's like to have friends, like you all are to Luke and me."

"I dunno if friendship is going to be in the cards," Guy remarked, rubbing the back of his neck. He quirked a good-natured smile at the two replicas. "But I'm in favor of keeping him alive. I didn't go out of my way to save Sync just to throw him to the wolves."

"Yeah. He might be a nasty, twisted little jerk, but it's not like he asked to be born," Anise agreed, shrugging. "And I don't trust him any further than Mieu could throw him, but still, I'm a Fon Master Guardian. If Ion says he wants him around, what am I gonna do?"

"As long as we remain extra cautious, we should be able to keep him under surveillance until we come up with a better solution," Tear mused. "We need to question him anyway."

"Indeed. And more importantly, it's critical that whatever we decide on is humane, for Luke and Fon Master Ion's sakes," Natalia declared. "We can't do that if we rush into things."

Everyone looked at Jade. Jade sighed the sigh of the deeply put-upon.

"Very well," he said. "We've made worse decisions as a group. I suppose I'll just have to make do."

"Gee, Colonel, you're _so_ gracious," Anise quipped.

"I'm glad you recognize that, Anise," Jade replied graciously. "May I then suggest we at _least_ seal Sync's artes?"

"That would be wise," Tear agreed. "We can't risk him using a curse slot seal on one of us again. The damage one of us might do before Fon Master Ion could undo it could be deadly."

"Yeah," Luke said. "I think that's fine. Ion, what do you think?"

"I think that's fine, too," Ion replied, smiling in relief. "Everyone, thank you so much."

There were still other Sephiroth to unseal and connect, but they didn't actually know where the remaining ones were yet, and with the core's vibrations nullified, they'd bought themselves some time to focus on the issue with Sync and how to seal his artes. Generally speaking, it was a temporary ailment that a good night's rest would do away with, so simply inflicting the ailment wouldn't be good enough.

Anise pointed out the Dark Seal they'd picked up a while back would keep them sealed for as long as he wore it, which would also make Sync more vulnerable to attacks if it came down to that. Ion wasn't happy about that, but it seemed the best solution. When Tear suggested they find or make a manacle or bracer and combine it with the Dark Seal, so that Sync couldn't simply remove it, it went from "seemed" to "was." That and a fitted cell for one of the rooms aboard the Albiore, it was agreed, would probably do the trick-and with Belkend out from under Van's influence, they could get everything done where they were.


	3. Play Dead

The door creaked open. In turn, Sync opened his eyes and saw the Necromancer holding the door open for the seventh Ion and his Guardian. Jade glanced over their heads at him, and their eyes met for a moment. Then, poker face unchanging, he shut the door. Sync heard no footsteps walking away.

So. The Necromancer wasn't going to intrude on the "friendly" chat between replicas and Guardian, but he'd be immediately able to intercept if things went south. He hadn't joined in on the battle in the core, so Sync wasn't sure how much he'd recovered from his fon slot seal, but that didn't matter. It was the Necromancer. He was a big deterrent all on his own.

He flicked his green eyes to the seventh Ion and his Fon Master Guardian, keeping his own expression stony. Anise was carrying a tray with a large plate of rice balls, a stack of napkins, and three cups and a pitcher of ice water on top. All of the dishes were made from what he guessed was tin: sturdy but not heavy enough to do much damage if he used them as impromptu weapons.

She kept gawking at his face, which made him uncomfortable. He glanced away from her to fix his glower on the seventh Ion. He held the Fon Master's tuning staff in one hand and what looked like a one-wrist manacle in the other, which didn't make sense. The whole point of manacles was to keep hands or feet tied together. Sync let a thread of suspicion enter the furrow of his brow.

"Hello, Sync," Fon Master Ion said, smiling nervously. "How are you feeling?"

_What a dumb question,_ Sync thought, shifting against his bound hands and feet. "What do you want?"

"I'm sorry. I wanted to let you know what's going to happen to you."

"Ion, let me get you a chair," Anise cut in as she set down the tray on a nearby table.

"It's all right, Anise, I'm fine," he reassured her, doing the same with the manacle and his staff.

"Just get to the point," Sync said, tone flat.

Ion met his stare. "Jade and the others are going to interrogate you about Van and the God-Generals. Tear and Anise have not and, under my orders, will not report to Daath that you're still alive. After that, you'll stay here, under our protective custody, as my personal guest."

It started out reasonably enough. Sync had figured they'd interrogate him; that was only sensible. Then the Fon Master rapidly got more absurd. Sync's stare went blank.

"Your guest," he repeated.

"Yes."

"Your personal guest."

"Yes."

Sync was silent for a moment. Then he finally turned his stare on Anise.

"And you're just _letting_ him do something that stupid, Ionian Sergeant?" he wondered. "The Fon Master Guardians are a real bastion of competence."

"Hey, shut up," she retorted. "It's an order from Fon Master Ion. What am I supposed to do, say no?"

Sync's lips thinned into an almost-smile, but he understood what she meant. They were both soldiers. It was their job, their purpose for existing, to obey their superiors - though in her case, as far as the reports went, the one whose orders she'd be following wasn't the one standing next to her. "It must be tough, having to follow the orders of such a soft-hearted idiot," he said all the same.

"Knock it off, Sync, before I knock your teeth out!"

"Anise! Please don't threaten him!" Ion scolded her. Sync indulged in a smug smirk at the abashed look on her face, though it vanished in annoyance when the Fon Master turned back to him. "I'm so sorry for that, Sync. Anise is just defensive when it comes to me."

"I can't imagine why," Sync said dryly. "So, you mentioned protective custody. What exactly are you 'protecting' me from?"

"Yourself," Ion replied, "and the other Oracle Knights, especially Van."

"And if 'protecting' me includes tying me to a post and locking me up, that just can't be helped, right?"

Ion's expression twisted with shame. It was less gratifying than Sync thought it would have been. "I'm sorry, Sync. The others just don't trust you."

_They're right not to,_ thought the replica, eyes flicking over to Anise.

"But I promise, you'll be treated with humanity and respect," the Fon Master continued earnestly. "Once we've dealt with Van's replica plan, there won't be any reason to keep you locked up, and you can go free."

"To do what?" Sync asked, scalpel-sharp. There was so much that was ridiculous about what Ion said, he'd just have to start there. "Where exactly do you think a failed replica can go?"

Ion hesitated. "Well..."

"Not to mention, those aren't promises you can keep. I helped spark the war between Kimlasca and Malkuth, which killed lots of people. If you and your fellow idiots win -" _which you won't,_ he left unsaid, "- I'll become a war criminal. Did you think I didn't know that?"

"I'll do something about that," Ion insisted. "I swear to Yulia I will. I just don't want to abandon you, Sync."

Despite himself, Sync snorted with what was very nearly laughter. "Are you kidding? No, of course you're not." His eyes narrowed. "I'm not stupid. I know you're only doing this to feel better about yourself. Well, don't bother. I don't need your pity, _Fon Master_."

Ion held his glare for a moment, hesitating. Then he murmured, "I think you do."

That stung - more than Sync would ever care to admit. "...Ugh," he muttered, averting his eyes. After a moment, he added, "It doesn't matter. I'm your prisoner now."

"You're not -"

"Ion," Anise hissed, leaning in close to the robed boy. "He really kind of is. We should just own up to that."

The Fon Master hesitated, then sighed. "...Yes, I suppose you're right." He looked back at the older replica. "That might be true, Sync, but I still don't want any harm to come to you. I hope you'll at least believe that."

Sync didn't respond, which Ion chose to take as an encouraging sign. "You must be hungry," he added, smiling warmly. "Would you like to eat lunch with Anise and me?"

"I'd rather gargle glass shards," he growled.

Ion's smile trembled, and he looked to Anise in a mute appeal for help. Anise looked between the two boys with identical faces and hesitated. Then she took a deep breath and planted her fists on her hips.

"Look, Sync, either you can sit and have lunch with Ion and me like a decent human being, or I can shove rice balls down your throat," she declared. "Your choice."

"Anise!" Ion protested, but this time Anise didn't budge.

"Pfft." One corner of Sync's mouth rose in a humorless sickle of a smile. _Decent human being, indeed._ "So much for the will of your _precious_ Fon Master Ion. I see you only follow his orders when it's convenient for you. But in all seriousness, you really think that I believe your bluff for one sec -"

Sync was cut off when Anise scooped up one of the rice balls (beef, as it turned out) and shoved it into his mouth mid-sentence. After a lot of angry noises and flailing and panicking and coughing and one "aww, those are _good_ rice balls, too" later, Sync glared daggers up at his captors.

"_Fine_, I'll eat with you two," he snapped, venom dripping from each word. "But I'm not doing it tied up."

"That's fair," Ion said, holding up both hands in an attempt to be placating. "I'll untie you right away, Sync."

"Wait, Ion. I'll do that," Anise insisted. "You go ahead and sit down, okay? No, no, on the other side of the table!"

Sync narrowed his eyes as Ion sat opposite the table from him. Anise was smarter than she looked. He was a lot faster than Anise, but Ion being that much further away, and on the other side of a piece of bolted-down furniture besides, meant it'd be harder to get to him to take him as a hostage. He flicked his glare over towards the door. Was the Necromancer still there?

He glanced down at Anise as she began to undo the ropes around his feet from behind. Clever. It'd be harder for him to kick her from that angle. Sync suppressed a sigh, and then a wince as pain stabbed into his shoulder. Getting a taste of that rice ball, even if he'd spat it out, had reminded his stomach that he hadn't eaten since he'd polished off his emergency provisions during the trip to the core. He'd gone without food for days in the past, but that hadn't been for a couple of years - not since he learned to cook for himself.

No weapons, no armor, no boots. If he intended on escaping, he'd have to at least have something in his stomach. It was just as well that he'd caved.

When his hands were free, he stood, held them up and rubbed the red marks where the ropes had cut into them. Anise stood up next to him.

"Hey, Sync, are you left-handed or right-handed?"

He eyed her. "I'm ambidextrous. Why?"

"Hold out whichever arm you want, then."

Sync glanced at the table. The manacle wasn't there. "So is this the part where you handcuff me?" he wondered dryly.

"Yup," Anise replied, unfazed. "Hold out your arm."

Despite his question, Sync didn't comply immediately. There was only one cuff, so there had to be a gimmick to it. Was it a piece of fontech with a tracking device in it? Did it have a small fonbomb installed? The seventh Ion had said he didn't want any harm to come to him, but one of the others could have easily gotten something like that without telling him what it really was. Either way, it was clearly a bad idea to let himself get cuffed.

So he took advantage where he could: he looked at the other Ion. "You aren't really going to let her treat me like a criminal, are you?"

But Ion's expression, while apologetic, was unyielding. "I'm sorry, Sync. But this was a condition of keeping you away from Van. It won't hurt you, I promise."

_Away from Van._ It was a line that gave Sync pause because of how specific it was. "Come to think, you were saying earlier that you wanted me protected from him and the Oracle Knights. Why?"

"'Why'? You said so yourself back in the core, Sync," he replied. "Van was only keeping you alive so long as you're useful to him."

In other words, if Sync returned to Daath, Van would have him killed. It was a reasonable assumption. Sync had come to the same conclusion himself when he'd been defeated - no, when he first received the orders to sneak aboard the Tartarus. It might have been a back-up plan, but Sync knew he'd been chosen for it because he was the most disposable. You weren't supposed to return from suicide missions. That's why Sync had wanted to at least die on his own terms by taking the enemy with him, instead of dying like a dog. Instead of dying like Fon Master Ion.

Of course, Mohs would no doubt have him killed too, particularly since he didn't actually know Sync's true identity. Van had managed to keep that one a secret from the Field Marshal of the Oracle Knights. Given that Anise was his unwilling spy, he'd hear about it sooner or later, though whether the God-Generals would get the memo was another story. As little as Sync valued his own life, he didn't relish the thought of Anise sneaking into his cell and cutting his throat one night on the fat fool's orders.

But the seventh Ion had a point. Sync was no longer useful to Van. At this point, he'd be a liability. Whether he died here, there, or somewhere else, or was held captive here and no one ever knew where he was, it made absolutely no difference. The only difference would be to the seventh Ion, who kept bleating on and on about humanity and respect, as if a failed replica like Sync deserved things like that. Sync didn't believe for one second that anybody among the Fon Master's crew actually shared the naive replica's opinions. Accepting that manacle was probably in and of itself a death sentence, particularly if Anise received orders to dispose of him.

_So if I'm going to die at some point anyway, I may as well die making a point._

He rubbed his wrists in silence for a moment more. Then he held out his left arm, fist clenched, out to Anise.

The manacle was about as thick as a wristwatch, and it latched on easily and snugly. There was a loud _click_ as the lock engaged, and all over his body, Sync could feel his fon slots close. It was like suddenly being dunked into a murky pond. He held up his arm, hand now unclenched, and frowned at the manacle. It was crafted such that even after relaxing his arm, he probably wouldn't be able to slip his hand out without doing something drastic.

"I see," he said, flexing his hand anyway, just in case. "So that was the gimmick. I guess I should be flattered that you and your friends consider me such a big threat."

"Well, _duh_," Anise said, rolling her eyes. "You're a God-General, what did you _think_?"

Sync decided to ignore that one and sat himself at the table opposite the other Ion replica. He was surprised when Anise pulled up a chair and sat next to him, rather than her own Ion, but she didn't say anything, just set out the cups for everyone and poured everyone's water.

"Okay, everybody, dig in!" she declared, tone significantly brighter than it had been a moment ago.

Sync opted to take a sip of his water first as Ion and Anise grabbed a rice ball each. Ion took small, measured bites and used a napkin over his other hand to catch any stray clumps of grains, while Anise took big bites and savored each one. When Sync picked up a rice ball, he looked it over first, though he doubted it was secretly poisoned. It smelled good, though. Sync could feel his mouth water, so he took a bite before his stomach growled and gave him away.

It was good. It was _very_ good. The rice was chewy but fluffy, with the subtle tang of vinegar and salt, and the seaweed strip that served as a handhold was still decently crisp - a mean feat, given how quickly they absorbed moisture. He hadn't gotten the hang of that yet himself. The insides were packed with sliced beef that practically fell apart in his mouth, warm and flavorful and succulent. Quite without meaning to, Sync polished it off and reached for a second before the others had finished their first. Ion's dopey smile and Anise's knowing smirk rubbed him the wrong way, but he started eating his second rice ball anyhow.

"Anise made all these rice balls herself, you know," Ion remarked when he'd finished his. "She's a wonderful cook, isn't she?"

Sync stopped chewing.

"Heh heh," Anise chirped smugly. "You can compliment me any time now!"

He peered down at his rice ball. "...So you eat like this all the time, then?"

Ion blinked. "Huh?"

"Never mind," Sync muttered, then took a long sip of water.

Lunch, after that, was long and awkward. Sync opted to eat instead of answer their casual questions, and though he was generally a quick eater, after the second one, he took his time to savor the flavor and the reminder of how much better a life the successful Ion replica had. The seventh Ion probably had delusions of befriending Sync or something similarly outrageous, but that wasn't going to happen.

Eventually, they gave up - though clearly only for the day - and the seventh Ion told him that he'd be moved to a different room later, after the Necromancer came in to interrogate him. Sync failed to react to this outwardly, but he did sneak an extra rice ball into a napkin and hide it in his jacket when the others weren't looking. He suspected Anise had only pretended not to look, but as long as she didn't say anything, Sync didn't see a problem. Not knowing when he'd be fed next, it was only rational to grab what he could, while he could.

The Necromancer's interrogation went... as well as might be expected. He questioned Sync on the details of Van's plans: the God-Generals's next intended move, why it was so important to them to stop the core mission, troop movements, the reason behind the replica world plan, and so on. Sync dodged the answers at first, and after a while just outright refused to give any information. The father of fomicry was unfazed, unsurprised, and impeccably polite.

Sync didn't trust it.

The shoe finally dropped when the Necromancer inquired, "Now then, how did you survive?"

"Survive what?"

"Being thrown into the mouth of a volcano."

Sync's expression, being already guarded, didn't change. "What business of yours is it?"

"You seem like a reasonably intelligent individual, for a two-year-old," the colonel said, smile likewise unchanged. "I'm sure you know what my interest is."

Sync couldn't help it; he snorted an ugly laugh. "I'm sure you know much better ways of killing replicas, Necromancer. You've had years of practice."

"I have indeed," the Necromancer replied mildly. "Poison is far quicker, more convenient, and regardless of how you kill a replica, fonon separation usually ensures there isn't a body left behind. I find it difficult to understand why anyone would use such an inefficient method as an active volcano. Regardless, it seems a surefire method - no pun intended."

Sync's eyes narrowed. Memories of suffocating heat and ash, of brief screams and a stream of Seventh Fonons, of the last glance back he never got to take at boys in brown, bubbled up in his mind. "It was," he replied coldly, "for most of us."

The soldier-scientist watched him with patience, but Sync kept his mouth shut.

After a moment of silence had passed, the long-haired man asked, "What classified you as a failed replica to begin with?"

"Weren't you listening? My powers were too weak. I might have had a sound body and a sound mind, but my Seventh Fonons just weren't up to snuff." And then, in twisted imitation: "No pun intended."

"Really. How was that determined?"

Sync's eyes narrowed in contempt. "You really need to ask? I'm shocked, Necromancer. The first had the usual physical and mental deficiencies of poorly-made replicas, so they didn't bother with that one, but the second through seventh had our physical, mental and fonic capabilities tested, among other things. My synchronization level was -" He smiled tightly, humorlessly. "- regrettably low."

"I see. Which were you?"

"The fifth," he replied, because he saw no point in refusing to say.

"I imagine you were all created in a relatively short time frame to avoid any of you looking too young compared to your original."

"All in the same day, actually, except for the first."

"What happened to the others?"

"They were thrown into Mt. Zaleho, too." _Duh,_ Sync didn't add.

"Including the sixth?"

"Of course it was. Why are you asking such dumb questions?"

"Did they throw you in all at once?" Jade continued, ignoring him.

"Your taste is as bad as your reputation, Necromancer."

"I'm very flattered."

"Tch. No, they pushed us in one by one," he replied coldly, lifting his chin to look down on the taller man. "On the plus side, for those of us who were lucky enough to hit the lava directly, the screams and stench didn't last long. _Is_ there a reason you're asking about this?"

"Apparently, it's because I have bad taste."

_I'm starting to understand why Dist gets so infuriated by him,_ Sync thought.

"I daresay my taste is no match for Van's, though, giving you the name he did."

The God-General couldn't quite master the shock that vibrated through him, and he felt his expression twitch before he got it under control. There was no way the Necromancer hadn't spotted it, but there was nothing he could do about that now.

"Still, for a failed replica only kept alive so long as it's useful, he certainly gave you a lot of authority," the Necromancer continued. "I recall Legretta, Largo and Asch all taking orders from you, and if they all do, I imagine Dist and Arietta do as well."

"So?"

"Nothing. It was merely an observation," he replied with a lightness that Sync suspected was calculated to irritate him.

"You're not figuring out anything ground-breaking, you know," he replied, keeping his tone and mien stubbornly calm. "I'm a replica of the Fon Master. What do _you_ think would happen if just anyone could have ordered me to remove my mask?"

"Hm? Oh, I'm sorry, did you think this was about you?" And then he smiled, eyes squinting shut. "Thank you for your cooperation, Sync. The interrogation is over."

...which took Sync aback. He found he genuinely didn't understand what the Necromancer meant by that, which cast their entire conversation into an uncertain light. Had he revealed more than he'd intended to? Or was the Necromancer just bluffing? Reviewing what they'd discussed, he didn't _think_ he'd given anything away, but he wasn't entirely certain what the other soldier did and didn't know, and so couldn't be certain that nothing he'd said had given him a final puzzle piece somehow.

Still, if the interrogation was over, that meant the next stage of his imprisonment was about to begin. Ever practical, Sync eyeballed his warden and asked, "So what's _actually_ going to happen to me?"

The Necromancer raised his eyebrows a hair. "Beg pardon?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

"Fon Master Ion said he explained that to you. Was something unclear?"

Sync's eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't agree to treat me with 'respect' and 'humanity' if there weren't some merit you could wring out of it for yourself, Necromancer."

He shrugged. "I'm as disappointed as you are, but I'm afraid I was outvoted. Had it been my decision, you wouldn't still be here. Of course, had it been my decision, you would have been left to pitch yourself into the core in the first place. We have enough problems without you around to compound to them."

Sync smirked without humor. As much as he disliked the father of fomicry, he appreciated his brutal honesty. But if he was willing to be that direct... "So Fon Master Ion was serious about 'letting me go' after you've fought Van."

"That's his prerogative. You're an Oracle Knight, which means once this conflict is over, so long as I haven't actually arrested you, you're no longer my responsibility."

"_Ah._ So that's why you went along with it."

The colonel adjusted his spectacles. "But," he continued, "that means you _are_ my responsibility so long as you're in our custody." He lowered his hand and smiled. It didn't reach his red eyes. "I'd greatly appreciate it if you were to make both our lives as easy as possible."

"I'm sure you would."

He nodded like he'd expected that response. Sync didn't like that. Then the Necromancer stood, hands still tucked into his pockets, and Sync liked the supreme lack of concern that indicated even less. "Well then, shall we?"

The Tempest stood too. "I take it you're transporting me to the new room now."

"Correct. I'm glad you're quick on the uptake."

Sync considered a quip about the idiot replica, then decided against it. "Let's get this over with," he said instead.

"My thoughts exactly."

* * *

The new room was much like the old room, save that bars with a door had been fitted five feet into it, presumably to keep Sync from jumping anyone who walked in. A cot was bolted to one wall, a table was bolted in the middle of the floor with a single chair to go with it, and a privacy screen blocked a toilet from casual view. A port window, smaller than his head, let in some daylight. Sync wondered what the room had been used for previously, to have a toilet in it. Whatever it was, he imagined its presence was the reason why this was his new "home." He made himself comfortable on the cot, watching the Necromancer as he locked both doors behind him, then stared up at the ceiling to think.

When Mohs received Anise's report, would he leave him alone, knowing one of Van's underlings was being kept sequestered away, far from Daath and the Oracle Knights? Or would he want him dead after all, just to make sure? Either way, Sync felt reasonably certain the God-Generals wouldn't hear a word about it, considering their attack on Sheridan and Mohs's general disapproval of dropping land masses.

No, even without that, Mohs was close-lipped about his information and its sources. Strictly speaking, Sync had never been explicitly told that Anise was his spy. It hadn't been difficult to figure out, though, given that she was the only real possibility. Locrian Sergeant Grants would have been another possibility had she not joined the group by accident and well after reports had started coming in.

That was something else to consider. If Mohs wanted to keep his spy a secret, it would be dangerous to have her act overtly. He'd probably only do that if he were desperate, and so long as Sync was secure and nobody was going to send him to Daath, there wouldn't be any reason to get desperate. In light of that, Sync had to conclude that the Grand Maestro's orders would probably be to keep an eye on him and only act if he tried to escape.

Probably, but not definitely.

_There's no point in pushing it,_ he decided. _I just have to be patient and wait for an opening._

An opening for what, he wasn't yet sure, but he _was_ sure he'd know it when he saw it.


	4. In the Shadows

"So what'd you find out, Jade?" Luke asked when the man in question entered the cockpit. The rest of the group turned to watch and listen.

"Oh, quite a few things, actually, though none relevant to our current problems," he replied, technically not lying.

"You didn't hurt him at all, did you?" Ion asked, eyebrows furrowing with concern.

"Rest assured I didn't even touch him, save during the move to his cell," Jade said, leaving out the part where he deliberately made Sync uneasy. "He's a tough one, so I'm going to leave him in there alone for a few days to stew."

"Does that mean we can't visit?"

"Of course you can. Someone has to bring him his meals, after all."

"You're really gonna make the Fon Master take food to a prisoner?" Anise wondered, doubt riddling her words.

Jade shrugged. "Why not? It's proper manners for a host to ensure his 'guest' is taken care of."

"It's all right, Anise," Ion reassured her. "I want to do it. It's okay if you don't want to come along."

"No, no, I never said that!" she protested. "Of _course_ I'm coming with you, Ion!"

"We should at least take turns," Tear suggested. "If we establish a set pattern, Sync could potentially take advantage of that. He might also be more willing to talk to someone other than the Colonel, given enough time."

"So what're we doing in the meantime?" Guy wondered. "We heard from the Yulia City researchers in Belkend where two of the three last Sephiroth are, so we could always move on to the next one..."

"Calming the vibrations of the core has afforded us a bit more time. I think it would be wiser to avoid leaving Noelle alone on the Albiore until we're all a little more acclimated to our... guest," Jade said. "If anyone has any particular places they need to visit, tasks they need to accomplish, or errands they need to run, we should take care of that now."

"Ooh! Let's go to Keterburg and hit the casino!" Anise suggested, arm shooting into the air.

"Does anyone _else_ have anywhere they need to visit?"

"Boo! You're no fun, Colonel!"

"I'd like to go back to Sheridan," Luke said. "So many people sacrificed their lives to buy us time to succeed on our mission, and I'm worried about the survivors. At the very least, I want to pay my respects."

"I agree. I'm worried about them, too," Natalia chimed in. "I spoke to Governor Viridian again earlier, and he informed me that the Kimlascan troops drove off the Oracle Knights not long after we escaped, but that's not the same as going there and seeing it with your own eyes. Noelle must need some time to grieve her grandfather, too. It's the least we can do for her."

The movement was unanimous, and so it was their first stop. Sheridan, while gravely wounded and in mourning, would survive; the people who lived there were tough. Even tougher was Aston, who turned out to be alive, as they found out when they arrived at the meeting hall. It was a bittersweet joy for Noelle to find at least one of her grandfather's old friends had made it through the Oracle attack.

After they all expressed their relief and their regrets, Noelle asked if they could stay just one night, and the others agreed. Natalia and Mieu accompanied Noelle through town as moral support, Luke and Guy stopped by the blacksmith's, Jade and Anise handled stocking up on groceries and items while Ion tagged along, and Tear returned to the Albiore.

Whether for practical or philanthropic reasons, leaving Sync all alone there, even locked up, wasn't an option.

* * *

Sync thought he had been prepared for the mental stress of being imprisoned.

He had been wrong.

It hadn't been so bad while he'd been waiting for his captors to show up, because he'd felt certain he wouldn't have to wait long. He'd been right, too. Now that the interrogation was over and he knew his imprisonment would be indefinite with a slim chance of assassination, he found he had nothing to do _but_ wait. Now that his situation was established, the only thing he had to anticipate was when he would next be fed. Patience, he found, only went so far when there was nothing to do.

Being only about two years old, his early time was filled to the brim with training, both physical and mental. Van had told him he would have to make himself useful, then given him nonstop stimulation. Constant drills to hone his martial arts. Constant books for studying the world around him. Constant lessons on how to make use of fonons, on how to utilize his Daathic fonic artes. Sleep itself had been a luxury. Punishment for disobedience and mistakes in those early days had also been confinement, but there had always been an end in sight for those. It had taught him patience, taught him how to hold his tongue and hide his emotions, how to obey and observe and calculate.

This taught him nothing. It was punishment for punishment's sake, wrapped up in a sickly-sweet lie of mercy. All he could do was sit and wait and be utterly, thoroughly, unequivocally useless. Being useless was the only way he _could_ be useful to Van anymore, because to do otherwise would be to act against him.

Sync hadn't thought there could be anyone on Auldrant crueler than Van Grants. He was unpleasantly surprised to find new contenders.

Still, he was resourceful by necessity, having long since learned that he was the only one who would ever take care of himself. Sets of stretches, basic exercises and katas eased him through the hours. When he grew hungry, he ignored his stomach for as long as he could. Only when he started to feel faint did he consume his squirreled-away rice ball, and then only half; the rest was left for after another set of exercises. He was used to eating as quickly as possible to maximize his use of time, and soon regretted his habit. He pushed himself anyway.

The door unlocked while he was in the middle of a hundred sit-ups. Hunger and adrenaline put him on instant high alert, and he twisted around to sit with legs crossed to face whomever it was.

His eyes widened slightly, then narrowed, when he saw it was Van's sister. She met them and gave him a slight nod that he didn't return. Then she knelt down and slipped a plate of sandwiches through the food slot at the bottom of the inner door. A cup of what was probably water was slipped in between the bars. When she stood up again, she regarded him anew. Sync stared back at her with the intent to stare her down. If she'd come to gawk, then let her get a good, long look. They already had him caged up like an animal.

However, she said nothing, and he was unable to read her expression. After a moment, she slipped back out the door and locked it behind her.

Sync breathed out a sigh once she was gone. _I should have asked her for something to read,_ he groused, even as he knew he wouldn't have. He might be trash, but he still had his pride as a God-General. He wasn't going to ask any of them for a thing.

He inspected the sandwiches. Inside was lettuce, tomato, and plenty of sliced hard-boiled eggs, with some kind of sauce spread on the thick slices of bread. He took a cautious bite and chewed.

It, too, was very good. Not as good as Anise's cooking, but still flavorful, with a variety of textures. The eggs in particular were perfectly boiled, something Sync knew from experience was harder to pull off than it seemed. The worst part was that the taste was familiar.

His expression darkened. He ate and drank anyway. When he was done, he set the cup on top of the plate and pulled it well away from the bars, then sat cross-legged behind it. Before long, Van's sister appeared again, a white towel draped over her left arm. She took one look at the tray, then met Sync's hooded stare.

"May I have those back, please?"

"No."

Her eyes narrowed, and she began to sing.

The next thing Sync knew, he collapsed onto the floor, his senses and consciousness sluggish and draining away towards slumber. Neat as she pleased, Van's sister unlocked the barred door, walked over to the plate, set down the towel next to Sync's head, and then left with plate and cup in hand. The last sound Sync heard before he lost his fight against oblivion was that of the key turning in the lock.

When he awoke, the sweat he'd worked up doing all his exercises had made him chill and clammy. It had grown dark, and he could barely see. When he reached out, he felt a soft, fuzzy piece of fabric. Van's sister had never come back for the towel.

_What...? Is this supposed to be for me? What a weirdo. Why would she be that -_

_\- what was the word again... I'm sure it starts with a C. C-c-con..._

_Conflict? No, that's not right._

_Maybe it's close to conflict. Conflicted? Conflicting? Ugh, both of those sound off..._

_Condescending? Hrm. That's not wrong, but it's not what I'm thinking of._

_Con, con, con..._

Considerate_! That's it! Considerate._

_Why would she be that considerate?_

Sync sat up and stared at the patch of white.

It took him a moment to even figure out how she knew he would need one: when she'd stared at him, she must have noticed that he'd been sweating. It was a bizarre thought. Enemy or otherwise, who would both notice something like that and do something to make it better? But the alternative was assuming she brought and left a towel for no reason.

After letting his eyes adjust to the dark well enough to see the outlines of the room, he hung his coat on the chair and draped his shirt on the table to let them air out. Then he wiped himself off and took care of the necessities. After that, he paced the perimeter of his cell, feeling out where the edges were, until he could walk it by heart.

Being wide awake after being hit with the Nightmare hymn twice in one day, it was all he did until dawn.

The next person to visit him was Gailardia. By then, Sync had gotten dressed again. He'd done so when day broke; he didn't want anyone seeing him bare-chested. When Guy entered, he balanced Sync's meal on one arm like a seasoned waiter, and once the door was shut behind him, he crooked Sync a smile. Sync didn't smile back.

"Hey, good morning," he said, crouching down to the meal flap. "Hope you like fish."

Sync paused in mid-step and peered at what he sent through. Along with the usual cup of water, there was a plate of spaghetti with seafood and vegetables mixed in. "Pasta for breakfast?"

"Well, it's the same thing we all had, so..." Guy folded his legs beneath him. "It's easier for us to just make extra when we're cooking for us and bring you the leftovers."

"How thoughtful of you." Sync went back to pacing.

"...Uh, are you going to eat?"

"I'll eat when I'm good and ready."

Guy smiled, mildly exasperated. "All right, suit yourself."

Sync paced the room for another couple of revolutions. As he turned, he shot a glare to Guy, who at that point had grabbed the towel Sync had left folded up on the other side of the bars and stood up. "Are you still here?"

Guy blinked at him. "Well... Yeah? I thought you might like some company." He crooked another smile. "Besides, we've never had a chance to really talk before. Call me curious."

Sync stopped, then faced his former puppet with a flat stare. _You want to gloat over your ex-puppetmaster that badly, huh,_ he thought. He tilted his chin up to look down on the taller man, then lowered it to smirk. "All right, we can talk. Let's start with some trivia. Did you know that a curse slot seal is like poison ivy? The more frequently you come in contact with it, the more vulnerable you become to it."

Guy's smile faded. "I... didn't know that, no."

Sync folded his arms, his smile all teeth and malice. "Which means that the most logical target for a curse slot seal is someone who's had one put on him before. Interesting, huh?"

"Yeah... interesting... Can we talk about something else?"

"Oh, am I boring you? Too bad." Sync narrowed his eyes. "Because it's _all_ I feel like talking about right now."

Guy frowned. "...I'm gonna come back a little later to pick up your dishes," he said, opening the outer door. "See you, Sync."

Sync reveled in the silence his captor left behind. When he ate, the seafood pasta tasted that much more flavorful. It occurred to him to make further trouble, but after their "pleasant" conversation, it wouldn't surprise him if Guy brought Van's sister back with him. Sync had no desire to get dropped by another hymn, so when Guy returned half an hour later, he found the empty dishes on his side. He collected them without a word and left right away. Sync chuckled nastily to himself about that for a while.

But his self-satisfaction was as nothing before boredom, and the wait after that was terrible. Antagonizing Guy had let him blow off some stress, but Sync had never gone so long without polishing himself in some way. While his cell was spacious for a cell, it still didn't have enough room to work on more advanced katas, and the repetitiveness of his exercises was beginning to get to him. He knew it was bad because when the other Ion replica and his Guardian came around lunchtime, he was almost glad to see them. Almost.

"How are you doing, Sync?" Ion asked, leaning against the bars as Anise slid in his new meal: this time, toast spread with jam and what was probably water again.

Sync, for his part, was across the room, doing leg stretches with his back flat against the back wall. "Fine," he lied.

"Sync, it's pretty obvious you're lying," Anise remarked.

"Okay, then it's awful," Sync amended, rolling his eyes. "I'm in agony every minute I'm forced to stay here."

"Is it really that bad?" Ion fretted while Anise gave the God-General a Look. "Is there anything we can do to make your stay easier?"

"You could be less condescending, to start," Sync replied, folding up the one leg and stretching out the other. After a split-second of thought - it was an offer, so it wasn't like he'd begged, right? - he added, "After that, you could bring me something to read."

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be condescending," the other replica stammered. "I'll do my best. What kind of books would you like to read?"

Sync almost smiled. If the Fon Master actually did bring him back anything, he'd be amazed. "Something educational."

"Maybe we could get him a book on manners," Anise quipped.

"Anise, be nice," Ion scolded her.

"What for? It's not like he appreciates it."

"If any of us needs to read a book on manners, it's you," Sync cut in.

"SEE?"

The Fon Master just gave her a long, somber look. After a moment, Anise sighed.

"Sorry, Ion."

"Aren't you going to apologize to the _other_ Ion in the room?" Sync said, razor barbs in his tone. "Oh, sorry, I forgot. Why would you bother when you've already got your own personal Ion right next to you?"

"Shut up!" she snapped. "You're so obnoxious, Sync!"

The Tempest _did_ smile, then: a long, thin, malicious grin that said exactly what he thought of that.

"Please, that's enough," the Fon Master insisted. "Sync, the Albiore's going to take off soon, just so you know. I'll try to get you something to read. We'll be back in half an hour, all right?"

"Yeah, yeah. Get lost."

"C'mon, Ion," Anise grumbled, leading the green-haired replica away. "He hasn't been in here long enough to fix his attitude."

"I don't mind his attitude. I just..." the other replica began to say. The door shut behind them, leaving the rest of his statement unheard.

Sync finished his set, then leaned forward onto the balls of his feet and stood up without using his hands. The toast, which was spread thick with strawberry jam, was delicious, even if it had gone a little cold in the time it took for him to actually get around to consume it. The drink turned out to be milk, which was a surprise. The buoyant feeling it gave him when he first saw it made him frown, but he still made sure to savor the beverage. When he was done, he gave the empty plate and cup a sour look.

_It's good..._ he thought. _I hate that it's good._

He was back on the opposite wall, dishes on the other side of the flap, by the time Ion and Anise returned. Sync didn't acknowledge their arrival, though he kept them in his peripheral vision.

"Sync?" Ion called, clutching his staff close to his chest. "I'm sorry. Jade said we can't give you anything but necessities, like meals and washcloths. That means no books."

_What a shock. At least that explains the towel._ Aloud, he said, "That's fine. I didn't expect anything from you, anyway."

Ion looked crestfallen. Anise glared at him, even as she picked up the dishes.

"What'd I tell you," she said. "Let's go, Ion."

"Could you go on ahead? I want to talk to Sync alone for a moment."

She hesitated. "Fine, but just for a moment," she agreed. "And don't get too close to the bars, okay?"

He nodded. When the door shut behind her, Ion watched it for a moment, then turned back to the other replica.

"Sync," he said softly. "Could you come here for a moment, please?"

"Whatever you have to tell me, you can tell it to me from over there."

He gave him a rueful smile and reached into his tabard. The reason he'd been clutching his staff so close became clear: he'd smuggled in a book by holding it against his chest. Sync sat up straight, finding himself legitimately amazed, as Ion knelt down, slipped the book through the bars, and slid it forward. It cleared less than a foot.

"I know you must be frustrated in here, and I really am sorry," he whispered, glancing over his shoulder unnecessarily. "Please keep this hidden, all right?"

"Why are you doing this?" Sync wondered blankly.

Ion met his eyes. "I'm used to being held captive," he murmured. "It always makes me a little nervous, not having anything to study. I know you said you and I aren't the same, but even so..." He stood back up. "I'm sorry I couldn't get you a notebook or anything like that; this is probably already pushing our luck. It's a book on engineering, by the way. I hope that's all right. It's all I could find on board."

Sync stood up. "That's fine," he repeated, approaching and picking it up. Engineering wasn't his strong suit, but he at least knew how to operate a fomicry machine, and it was better than nothing. He flipped through it, then peered at the other replica.

"I really didn't expect anything from you," he added quietly.

Ion smiled at him. "That's all right. I'm just glad I _could_ do something for you. I'll come talk to you again tomorrow, all right?"

Sync didn't respond, but that seemed to be all right to the Fon Master. He nodded good-bye and slipped out the door. The turning of the lock let the God-General know he was alone again for the next several hours.

He stared at the door for another few seconds.

Then he sat at the table, back to the door, and began to read.


	5. Everything You Say

Four more days passed. There wasn't any particular pattern in who showed up to give him his food. On the first day, the idiot replica had tried to strike up a conversation and Princess Natalia had tried to chew him out, but as he'd had reading material at the time, he'd snubbed them both. Unfortunately, Sync devoured the entire thing by the next day, and while he could still review it, it wasn't long after that that the Necromancer caught him and confiscated it. The Fon Master's lunch visits stopped after that too, probably as punishment - for both Ions, the God-General was certain.

It felt like they were traveling around, but Sync had no idea of knowing to where. For all he knew, they were well on their way to unsealing the last of the Sephiroth. The fact that he could do nothing but sit around was more agitating than anything else. It pressed down on him like a boulder how utterly useless he was. Even keeping up with his exercises to stay fit and ready seemed like a hollow joke, a meaningless activity meant solely to pass the time. By the fifth day, he was ready to implode.

So of course it was on the fifth day that the Necromancer came back.

"I hope your stay has been pleasant so far," he said with a smile. "I'm sure it's been at least relaxing, what with all the time you have to rest and reflect."

"You're a sick man, Necromancer," Sync growled.

"I've been told that often." A beat. "On an unrelated note, I don't suppose you would be willing to answer a few friendly questions?"

"Go to hell!"

He shrugged, radiating a total lack of concern. "Suit yourself." And then he turned to leave.

And the reality of Sync's situation slammed in on him. This was the Necromancer's plan: to string him out mentally. The seventh Ion had promised he wouldn't be hurt, and he probably had even meant it, but there were ways of torturing someone without ever bringing them physical harm. The prospect of another five empty days made Sync jump to his feet and yelp, "Wait!"

The Necromancer stopped, but didn't turn back. "Yes?"

Sync bit off the words he would have said next and bunched his hands into fists as his head sank. Betraying Van was the one thing he couldn't do - not because he had any loyalty to or affection for the man, but because he was the only one who could rid the world of the Score. No soft method like the seventh Ion's would be able to uproot the whole thing. Sync had told himself many times he was more than willing to die for that so he could take revenge on all the originals who mindlessly clung to it.

So then he was willing to suffer to the end. He'd spent his entire life suffering. But the one thing he couldn't stand was suffering while doing nothing. Even if they just threw him back into this cell, he had to do _something_.

And the only weapon he had left...

...was the same thing that the Necromancer wanted.

"I'll talk," he said, very quietly. He took a deep breath, lifted his chin, and continued, "But not here. Bring all your companions if you want. Just get me out of here."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," the man said mildly. Then he left and shut the door behind him.

For the first second, it didn't sink in what had just happened. Then Sync rushed over to the bars and grabbed them, though of course that had no effect. He kept himself from shouting, but only just, and when he realized that he'd just been ignored and left to rot, it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Of course he'd rub it in. Of _course_ he would.

Those thoughts still possessed Sync when the door opened again fifteen minutes later. He'd retreated to the cot and sat there, elbows leaning heavily on his knees. When he glared up at the entrance, he saw Guy and Luke there.

"Hi," the idiot replica said awkwardly. "So, uh... How's it going?"

Sync didn't stop glaring. He also didn't say a word.

"What Luke's trying to say is," Guy cut in, "we're going to escort you to another room for the new interrogation. Everyone's there, including Ion. He's been really worried about you."

"Lucky me," Sync grated.

"Hey, he really has been worried about you," Luke protested, but without heat. "I'm sorry things haven't been going so great, but he's been talking about you this whole time."

The God-General stood up. "You talk too much." He flicked his flat stare over at Guy. "So are you going to handcuff me?"

"Are we going to have to?" Guy replied, frowning.

Something almost like a smile, almost like a laugh, puffed out of Sync's throat and onto his lips. It drained away a moment later. "No."

He unlocked the bars and opened up the inner door. "Then let's get going. Luke, you watch the other door, all right?"

A moment later, they were on their way. Sync kept his head down, but subtly glanced from side to side at the interior, keeping mental track of where they were going. He'd remembered seeing that airship they'd had on the Tartarus, presumably the Albiore that the Fon Master had mentioned.

_Too bad I hadn't sabotaged it too,_ he thought. _I shouldn't have ever assumed a failure like me could beat them._

Their final destination was a large room, probably a good chunk of the airship itself. Looking at it, he saw how they could have moved a large chunk of the population of Engeve to Chesedonia. It wasn't enormous, but for the eight of them, it was plenty of space.

There were several rows of seats inside, split in groups back to back and facing each other, and when they entered, the others turned or lifted their heads to look at them. Ion got to his feet immediately, and Anise joined him the next split-second.

"Sync!" he cried, his tone somewhere between relieved and worried.

Sync hated him a little more for it. It wasn't beyond his notice that the ones who'd been sent to fetch him were the ones who'd stopped him from falling into the core - the ones who'd started this whole situation in the first place. He suspected that was Ion's doing. The younger replica _loved_ to pity him.

_Then again,_ Sync reflected, eyes dropping to the floor, _I'm pretty pitiful right now._

He let himself be led to the circle of seats where the others were, and accepted his place between Ion and the Necromancer without comment. Ion and Anise sat down with him, both of them watching him. Sync did his best to ignore their presence.

Princess Natalia, Van's sister, the idiot replica, and Guy all sat on the other side, in that order. Sync looked at them without expression, intensely conscious of the fact that he and the seventh Ion sat side-by-side for direct and easy comparison.

"So," he said. "What do you want to know first?"

"An astute question," the Necromancer remarked. "Let's start with the locations of the remaining passage rings. I expect you probably already know."

"No, wait, please - just one moment," Ion interrupted, just as Sync opened his mouth. "Sync... You don't have to answer anything you don't want to, all right?"

"Then what was the point of dragging me out here?" he snapped before he could stop himself. He made himself settle - it had, after all, been his request to leave that cell - and continued coldly, "Don't patronize me. I know the only thing I'm good for to you people is information."

"That's not..."

"The remaining passage rings," Sync spoke over him, before everyone else could start interrupting too, "are in the Meggiora Highlands, Mt. Roneal, and Mt. Zaleho." He hesitated a second, then lowered his eyes. "The first one you have to sail up the Nirni River to reach; you can't get to it from the entrance near Sheridan. Mt. Roneal's is in a relatively straight path up the mountain, but you have to contend with monsters and avalanches to get to it.

"Mt. Zaleho's..." His hands tightened on his knees. "...is accessible via a fonic glyph hidden in the Church of Lorelei. It'll transport you there instantly, if you can find it. The most I know is that it's somewhere in the upper levels." He paused a beat, willing certain memories away. "If you can't find it... it's a hike, but you can reach the Sephiroth from the mouth of Mt. Zaleho. There's a natural path that leads further inside."

"I had no idea one of the Sephiroth was near Daath," Ion uttered, eyes wide.

Sync slid him a look of pure dislike.

"Thanks for telling us all that," Luke said, leaning forward in his seat. "Can you tell us more about what Mast - I mean, what Van's planning? Like, why was it so important to you guys to stop us from stopping the core?"

_What a loser. He still calls Van his 'master,'_ Sync thought, but he avoided looking at anyone. If it were him conducting a group interrogation, he'd open with a question whose answer he already know or could verify on his own to make sure his informant was on the level. The Necromancer was at least that intelligent too. Now that he'd bargained for their trust by giving them good information, the trick would be to tell them little more than they already knew and to present them the truth without actually giving them an accurate picture of it.

"You already know about Van's fomicry plan," he said. "If the core's vibrations stop, the Planet Storm will calm down, producing less Seventh Fonons, which will make the replication process more difficult."

"Is that _it_?" Anise demanded. "You guys killed all those people in Sheridan just for _that_?"

"Why not?" Sync replied, lifting his head to narrow his eyes at her. "Everyone's going to die when the Outer Lands drop. What's it matter if a few dozen die sooner than everyone else?"

"That's horrible," Natalia said hotly. "Those were innocent civilians!"

"That's not how Van sees it, but I don't really care either way. You're wasting your breath, trying to lecture me."

"Is there any end to your shamelessness?!"

Tear rested a hand on Natalia's shoulder, and they shared a look. When Tear shook her head, Natalia grudgingly settled down, though with folded arms and a glare Sync's way. Sync refrained from smirking. Her outburst actually made him feel faintly better, but there was no reason anyone else should know that.

Tear met his eyes briefly, her expression a mask. Sync matched it before lowering his gaze obediently, calculatingly. He knew what a Grants would want from him.

"Why is Van using such an extreme method to erase the Score?" she asked, quiet and even. "Why isn't it sufficient just to end Score readings? Even if it's a little at a time, people could learn to live without it."

_You're so ignorant, it's almost sad._ "He doesn't think it's enough. Beyond that, I don't actually care about his reasons," he replied, which was technically true. "For me, it's enough that he annihilates the Score."

"Is that why you follow him, even though you don't like him?" Guy asked.

_Why else would I follow him?_ "Yes."

"That doesn't make sense," Anise protested. "He's making a world _full_ of replicas! Why would you support a plan that relies on something you hate?"

_And if I didn't support it, where would I go? What would I do? I get something out of it, but it makes no difference if I do or not. I don't have a _choice_ but to obey Van. I'm not like you originals or you replicas who actually matter to originals. I don't have an inherent right to exist._

Aloud, he said, "I don't see how that matters."

"Of course it matters, Sync," Ion said quietly. "But if you don't want to discuss it, I understand."

Sync slid him another wordless look of dislike.

"What is the God-Generals's next move going to be?" Tear asked. "Even if you haven't been in touch, you must have a broad idea."

The Tempest considered that one. Van of course had a back-up plan - he always did - but beyond that... "They want to stop you from reaching the rest of the Sephiroth, so their next move really depends on _your_ next move. If you all manage to lower the Outer Lands slowly, that wrecks everything Van's trying to do." He shrugged. "Though with the Qliphoth full of miasma, everyone will be dead in a few generations anyway."

"We're working on that. And we're going to figure something out," the idiot replica said. "Right, Jade?"

To his right, the Necromancer adjusted his glasses. "Right."

Sync eyed him warily. He'd been mostly silent for the interrogation so far. Was there a reason for it? Was he waiting for him to slip up? ...No point in speculating about it. With no information whatsoever on what he might be thinking, he'd only disadvantage himself by trying to figure out what was going through his head.

"What about their base?" Tear said. "We know Van's pulled his forces out of Belkend, and I doubt they're welcome in Daath any longer. Where would they be located now?"

"I couldn't tell you."

"And why, pray tell, is that?" Natalia wondered icily.

_Don't get your cravat in a twist,_ Princess_._ "Because they're likely traveling by fleet at this point. By staying mobile, they make it more difficult for the enemy to track them." Sync gave her a brief but pointed look. "Or for an informant to point the enemy to them."

"They'd probably keep at least parts of the fleets on standby near the remaining Sephiroth," Tear mused. "That way they could know in an instant if we approached."

"Does that mean we basically have them on the run?" the idiot replica asked.

"I don't think so. It's Van we're talking about," Guy pointed out. "Each ship by itself is probably a floating fortress - though I bet they've got some smaller ships too."

"Well, how big's the fleet, then?"

They looked expectantly at Sync. He shrugged, keeping his gaze down.

"That depends on how many Oracle Knights he convinced to stay with him. The attack on Sheridan was political suicide," he murmured. "It's not in the Score, so there's no way the Order of Lorelei would condone it. Grand Maestro Mohs already doesn't approve of what we were doing, so Van was planning on breaking away from Daath completely after that point."

"About how many would you guess?" Guy asked.

"Guess?" Sync thought about that. Would it be better to give a number on the low end or the high end? How soon would they learn on their own anyway? Probably very soon if not already, if Mohs bothered to keep his spy informed. "Up to a third, I'd guess," he replied, deciding to lowball it.

"Woah, a _third_?" Anise uttered, eyes bugging out. Several of the others, especially Luke, whose mouth dropped wide open, had similar reactions. "That's a lot of soldiers!"

_It'll be closer to a full half, actually. For some reason I'll never understand, Van's really popular with the Knights. He's not just a hit with stupid, gullible replicas, though he'll have plenty of _those_ ready to go soon too._ But Sync saw no point in saying anything.

"I have to wonder."

The Tempest eyed the Necromancer.

He gave him a politely neutral look in return. "If Van truly intends on replacing the world with replicas, he'll need an enormous amount of fomicry machinery. A single ship wouldn't be able to carry the amount needed for fomicry on such a large scale, and scattering it across a fleet would be inefficient and sloppy, adjectives I don't associate with Dorian General Grants. This leads me to conclude he must have an actual base, not just a fleet. Where is it?"

_Damn._ "As far as I know, Van's entire force is mobile right now," he replied, which was technically the truth.

"What an interesting way of putting it. Is that supposed to imply that even his base is mobile? How does that work, precisely?"

_Damn!_ Sync said nothing.

"What's the matter?" he wondered, tone deceptively light. "You seemed willing enough to talk before. Or is it that the information you've given us thus far wasn't important?"

_Damn it! The Necromancer doesn't let a thing slip!_

"Is that true?" Natalia asked, somewhere between astonished and taken aback. "He certainly hasn't had a good attitude, but he's said so much!"

"And yet so little of it had any real substance."

"That's rude," Sync said coolly. "All that and you thought there was no substance?"

"I don't think that, I know it. You've clearly been holding back, Oracle Knights Chief of Staff Sync."

Sync almost laughed. No point in asking how he knew that; it was a matter of public record. Keeping up to date on military reports - no, even just browsing the libraries at Daath would tell him that much. "And here I thought I didn't have to say anything if I didn't want to."

"You don't. You always have the option to return to solitary confinement."

_Ghh._ Coercion was a tactic Sync knew well; Van had used it on him often. In another universe, he and the Necromancer would have gotten along like a house on fire.

"Jade, that's not really in the spirit of what I said," Ion said, a trace of censure - or what passed for censure when it came to him - in his tone.

"With all due respect, Fon Master Ion, this isn't a game. The longer you indulge Sync, the longer not only we but potentially the entire world remains at risk. Getting complete, accurate information now means finally getting a step ahead of Van and putting a decisive end to this crisis before it's too late." The Necromancer refocused on the Tempest, expression unyielding. "Your answer?"

"It's true I know much more than what I've been telling you all," he murmured, keeping his head down and tone sullen. "From whether there's a secret base or not to the personal backgrounds of each of the God-Generals. I even know..."

And at last he lifted his head to lock eyes with the enemy, a sickle-smile slicing up his lips as his frigidly burning malice returned to his face. His back and shoulders straightened, he crossed his legs, and he folded his hands in front of him: a portrait of someone about to play his trump card.

"...which one of you is a traitor."


	6. Dead Promises

Anise thought she'd have a heart attack and die on the spot.

"_I even know which one of you is a traitor._"

_This is it,_ she thought, voice stuck in her throat. _He's gonna rat me out right in front of everybody. Everyone's gonna know all those ambushes were my fault. The Colonel's gonna skin me alive, and I deserve it._

She didn't dare look over at Jade for that reason. The looks of shock on everyone else's faces were bad enough-except of course for Ion, who was turned away from her. Instead, she could only look at Sync. That Sync, looking so smug while having Ion's face...! It was already bad enough as it was; why did he have to make everything worse?

"What do you mean, a traitor?" Tear asked.

"I mean exactly what I said," Sync replied, his earlier sullenness completely sliced away by razor-sharp confidence. "One of you has been leaking information to the God-Generals. Would you like to know who?"

_Ohhhh no,_ Anise thought, squeezing her eyes shut. _Oh no, oh no, why did it have to happen like this?!_

"Sync, please stop it," Ion said, voice quiet but clearly upset. "I can't believe that any of us would be a spy."

Sync laughed in his face while Anise felt the distinct sensation of a knife twisting in her gut. "You can believe what you want. But the spy's right in front of you."

_This is it,_ she thought. _I have to speak up. If he's gonna rat me out anyway, I'd rather tell everyone myself... C'mon, feet, move -_

"_Me_?"

Anise's eyes flew open. Sync had reached out a finger and pointed it directly at a now flabbergasted Luke. For a moment, she was thrown. _But _I'm_ the spy, how could he not know that?_ was her first thought. Her second was, _Does this mean there's another spy?!_ Her third was, _Wait, but how could it be Luke? He's an idiot!_

Her third thought was roughly everyone else's first, including Luke's, who had gone from shocked to indignant.

"I've never told the God-Generals anything! What the hell are you even talking about?"

Sync spread his arms, smirk never flickering. "Have you forgotten you're not the only one inside your head?"

Everyone looked at Luke. Luke's jaw worked soundlessly for a second. "You're saying _Asch_ has been spying on us?"

"Through your eyes and ears," Sync replied, turning up his head slightly to look down on the taller boy. "You never even noticed, did you?"

"I..." Luke trailed off, looking as shaken as Anise felt.

"I find that unlikely," Tear spoke up with deadly calm. "Asch has been acting against Van's interests for months. Even if we assume you're telling the truth, that information would have stopped going to the other God-Generals ages ago."

"Sharp as a knife, Locrian Sergeant," Sync replied, unfazed. "You're not Legretta's pupil for nothing. Speaking of which, she said you'd be Van's right-hand woman, didn't she?" He narrowed his eyes. "You didn't think you could replace her, but you were still excited to be his subordinate."

"That was a long time ago," Tear replied glacially, eyes narrowing back.

"It hasn't even been two years - less time than I've been alive. How else do you think I read the report on you?"

"Sync, what the hell are you doing?" Anise demanded, unable to bear it any longer. "Tear tried to _kill_ Van! She's been working all this time to try to stop him! Stop messing around!"

"That's true. So maybe the traitor's _you_, Anise," he continued, voice waspish, green eyes burning with malice. "I wouldn't put it behind someone who's so greedy for an easy life that she'd sell out her friends for some extra money on the side -"

"Shut up!" Anise shouted, shooting up to her feet, fury blazing up inside of her. She was the spy, _her_, and he had to say something so completely off-base! Threatening to out her, and then giving a fake reason so she could get legitimately mad and throw off suspicion...! "How _dare_ you?! I'd _never_ put a price tag on Ion, or _any_ of my friends!"

She wasn't Mohs's spy because she wanted to be!

"Sync, I think we've heard enough," Guy said, a note of warning in his voice.

"I'm not surprised to hear you say that. After all, I haven't gotten to _you_ yet, Count Gardios," Sync replied, paying back warning with vindictive glee. "Van already made an offer to you in front of them, but do any of your friends know how deep that goes? Like how Van pledged his sword to you, his master? Or how you were secretly meeting with him in Belkend?" He sliced a look over at Luke, who was already on his feet too, mouth open. "Or that he's got a seat open for you among the God-Generals whenever you get tired of playing goody-two-shoes with the idiot replica here?"

"Sync, cut it out!" Anise snapped. "Nobody believes you, you liar!"

"Actually..." Guy said reluctantly. "He's telling the truth. But only part of it - I already turned Van down a long time ago."

"It's true!" Luke chimed in, a little too quickly in Anise's opinion. "I saw it with my own eyes! I was kinda... eavesdropping. Sorry, Guy."

"You saw what you wanted to see," Sync replied, sounding bored.

"Shut up!" Luke said forcefully.

"Yes, this is quite enough. Even if what you say is true, it's also clear that you're distorting the truth," Natalia declared. "I doubt there's even a spy among us at all!"

Sync laughed. The sound rang twisted and cruel in Anise's ears. "You can think what you want, Princess. It doesn't change the reality - like the reality of how you're not really a 'princess' at all." He shrugged. "But Mohs already played that card, so I don't think anyone here would be dumb enough to believe you're a traitor because of _that_."

"I cannot believe how shameless you are!" the blonde cried. "You're as much as admitting you were lying the whole time!"

"So? Maybe they _were_ all distortions," Sync said nonchalantly. "But the thing is, each of you knows that they also had at least a seed of truth." He bared his teeth in a crescent grin, raking his stare across the group. "So you also know I can tell you what you want - but how willing are you to have your dirty laundry aired to all your companions in exchange?"

Jade frowned, but the look in his eyes was clinical. "My, my. Attempting to blackmail your way out of an interrogation. How bold." He adjusted his glasses, which glinted with reflected light. "But I'm afraid you aren't the first P.O.W. I've dealt with who attempted such a thing. Does anyone have any objections if I... handle this?"

As the others glanced among each other uneasily, Sync turned and looked Jade dead in the eyes. "Careful, Necromancer. Curiosity killed the Professor."

The change over Jade's expression was striking in how subtle it was. His eyebrows rose slightly, his nostrils flared, his lips thinned, his jaw tensed. Beyond that, he merely stared down the God-General. Luke reacted much more dramatically, with a loud gasp, while the others stared in confusion.

The others minus Anise, anyway, she being too busy grinding her teeth. She didn't understand what he was talking about, but it was clear that he'd just said something really nasty. When Sync's mocking laughter rang out, something inside her snapped. Already on her feet, she stomped two steps forward, swiveled around, and slapped both hands onto his cheeks, jerking his now-squished face forward and cutting him off. He made a strangled noise of surprise.

"IS THIS THE MOUTH THAT KEEPS TRASHING MY FRIENDS?" Anise roared, locking eyes with the God-General. The look of total astonishment that suffused them did nothing to calm her down. Not even Ion gasping at her to stop did. "DON'T THINK JUST 'CUZ YOU LOOK LIKE ION THAT A SWEET LITTLE GIRL LIKE ME WILL STAY CALM FOREVER!" she thundered on, now pinching his cheeks and pulling them as far as they'd go. He scrabbled ineffectively at her hands, thoroughly pole-axed. A distant part of Anise felt guilty about what she was doing when Ion had asked her so many times to be nice. The part that was in the here and now concluded, "I'LL KILL YOU, YOU BASTARD!"

It was there and gone like a stone falling from the fon belt: something that looked awfully close to fear crossed Sync's face. By the time it had registered in Anise's mind, it'd been replaced with narrowed eyes. A bare foot slammed into her gut, sending her crashing into Luke behind her. Both of them fell hard onto the seat Luke had been in, and while Anise was still trying to recover, Sync was already on his feet.

Unfortunately for him, so was Jade. The Colonel had the God-General's right arm twisted up behind his back before he could attack, run, or jump.

"_Tue le ze croa riou tue ze..._" Tear sang, never leaving her seat.

Sync's struggles slowed as the soporific power of the Yulian hymn overtook him. Expression twisting with frustration, he hissed, "Dammit, not again...!"

Then he passed out. Jade let him drop to the floor like a bag of garbage.

There was a moment of silence. Then Anise slipped off Luke's lap without even a crack to the young heir and shimmied over to Ion. The others stood up one by one, too, encircling Sync's unconscious form.

"So," Jade said briskly, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened, "what shall we do with him?"

Anise's voice stuck momentarily in her throat. Then, trying as hard as she could to sound casual, she asked, "D'you guys think he was serious about someone leaking information?"

"I stand by what I said earlier," Ion murmured. "I don't believe any one of us could be a traitor."

"If it were me, it wouldn't have to be on purpose," Luke fretted. "We don't know how much Asch is really trying to help us, or how long. He could've leaked information to throw Master Van off his trail."

"Asch wouldn't do that!" Natalia protested. "I'm sure it wasn't him. Or _any_ of us!"

"And even if he had been, that wouldn't be your fault," Tear pointed out. "You don't need to blame yourself for this, Luke."

He relaxed slowly. "Yeah... You're right. Thanks, Tear. Thanks, Natalia."

Jade cut in, "Regardless of whether he was serious or not, it's clear he said what he did to cause friction in the group."

"I agree. We need to believe in one another," Natalia said with a firm nod. "No matter what Sync says, we cannot allow him to sever the bonds of trust between us!"

"I don't know about trust, but... for now, we should proceed as though Sync was lying, or at least misrepresenting or not telling the whole truth," Jade said. "It's clear he knows more about us than we would like, but that's not actually proof that one of us is a spy."

"_Seriously_?" Anise squeaked, unable to believe her ears.

"Yes. What Sync did was psychological warfare," Tear explained. "If he can sow confusion and distrust between us, he might be able to seize an opportunity or open one up for the rest of the God-Generals. The fact that he pointed out or made a remark to almost all of us tells me that he had no intent of naming anyone specific."

"O-oh. That's a good point. I didn't think of that," Anise admitted, thinking back to the smug look on the twisted Ion replica's face. _But there's no way he was making the whole thing up. Maybe he knows there's a spy, but not who? ...So he just freaked us all out because he could?!_ "Dammit, that Sync," she swore. "I swear, when he wakes up, I'm gonna -" She saw the look on Ion's face. "- give him a _very stern_ talking-to."

"I suppose there's no avoiding it," Ion said, glum. "Maybe it was too much to hope I could help Sync after all."

"No no no no, that's not it!" Anise insisted, changing gears in an instant. "He's just being a stupid jerk, is all! It's practically part of the job description when you're a God-General! I'm sure you'll get through his thick skull eventually, Ion!"

"It _is_ only natural for Sync to continue to regard us as enemies so long as we're keeping him prisoner," Tear said, folding her arms.

"But how do we deal with that?" Guy wondered. "Just stop keeping him prisoner?"

"It's a possibility."

Everyone stared at Tear.

"There's no real reason for Sync to believe we mean him well," Tear continued, unruffled. "From his perspective, we're pitying him as a replica at best and using him as a prisoner of war at worst. Despite our intentions, we haven't truly treated him like a person. I'm not saying we should let him do as he pleases, but he may relax around us more if we give him some freedom."

"Oh, I get it!" Luke uttered. "So, like... let him walk around during the day, and save locking him up for bedtime and when we leave for the Sephiroths?"

"I have to say, Tear, it's pretty surprising to hear this from you," Guy said, gesturing with one hand. "You're not the type to pity an enemy."

"This isn't pity," Tear replied, though a hint of pink tinged her cheeks. "I just want to respect Fon Master Ion's desire to help him."

"I admit, I'm also surprised," Jade remarked. "I didn't think you would prioritize that over information on Van and the God-Generals, particularly when time is an issue."

"At this point, I think it's clear we won't get anything else out of him without turning to more drastic means," she replied, unfolding her arms. "If we're going to keep him alive, well, and with us, we need to do something about his hostility first."

"Do you think it'll work?" Ion wondered, kneeling down next to his fellow replica.

"I don't know," she admitted, expression pinched. "It's possible nothing will work, and he's been too thoroughly indoctrinated by Van to ever listen to anyone else."

"That's too sad," Natalia murmured, folding her hands over her chest. "He might be insufferable, but when you put it like that..."

"Yeah," Luke echoed, staring down at him. Then he knelt down with Ion and helped him pick the other replica up. "Dammit, he's a jerk, but we can't give up on him."

Jade pinched the bridge of his nose.

"We'd better keep an eye on him if we're not gonna take him back to his cell," Anise suggested, moving in to help Luke out. "Maybe one of us could stick around with him?"

"That sounds reasonable. It doesn't need to be the same person, either," Tear said. "We can take turns."

"At least one person. Two would be safer," Jade said. "We'll have to balance the needs of the mission with the need to keep Sync supervised. Naturally, we can't leave Ion alone with him, either. My apologies, Ion."

"It's okay," Ion reassured him. "You're probably right."

"I'll go first," Luke offered, standing up with Sync's arm slung over his shoulders.

"Me too," Anise offered quickly. "I need to apologize to him anyway. I feel bad, getting carried away and screaming at him earlier."

"Heh, yeah. It was just like you, though," Luke said, crooking a smile at his friend. "Thanks, Anise. For getting upset for us, I mean."

Anise flushed red, ashamed and embarrassed.

"Actually, you probably shouldn't," Ion said. "I'm sorry, Anise, but... he'll probably be alarmed if he sees you first thing, considering you said you'd kill him."

Anise grimaced, feeling the knife of guilt twist the other way. "...Sorry, Ion. I didn't really mean it..."

"It's okay," Ion said, gaze downcast. "I was upset with him too. I wish you hadn't gone so far, but..."

"Why don't you go, Fon Master?" Tear suggested. "It should be fine if Luke's there, too."

"Is that all right?" Ion said hopefully, looking over at Jade.

"As long as Luke doesn't get careless."

"I won't! I promise!" Luke swore.

"All right. And now we know where to go next, too," Guy said. "Sync's information about the Sephiroth matched up with what the Yulia City researchers were able to tell us, so we can probably trust that Mt. Zaleho really is the last one."

"Which should we head to first?" Natalia wondered. "I know we already agreed that Mt. Roneal would be last, but..."

"Let's do the Meggiora Highlands," Anise said quickly. "We already know exactly where it is, so it'll go faster!"

"Oh, right. Good thinking, Anise," Natalia said, smiling at her.

"That's fine by me. I'll go inform Noelle," Jade said, turning to leave. "One of us has to warn her for when this goes horribly wrong."

The group split up then. Luke knelt down and started to pull Sync's unconscious body onto his back. While he was busy with that, Ion touched a hand to Tear's arm, pulling her attention to him.

"Thank you for earlier, Tear," he murmured, leaning in close. "I truly appreciate you defending Sync for me, especially since it goes against how you feel."

"You're welcome," she murmured back, turning to him. "But in truth, it doesn't." When Ion widened his eyes, she explained, "Sync is the way he is because of Van... my brother. That doesn't absolve him of the things he's said and done, and we still need to be cautious of him, but Luke's and your desire to defend him made me start to consider what that really means. And when I think of how his behavior must be a reflection of what my brother taught him..." Tear shook her head, eyebrows furrowing. "It might come to nothing, but I'd like to at least try to look out for him too."

Ion smiled warmly. "Like how you look out for Luke?"

Tear's cheeks reddened, and she glanced over Ion's shoulder at Luke, who was just then staggering forward a couple of steps with Sync in tow. "Well... Yes. I suppose."

"Okay, I'm ready!" Luke called to them, hurrying to join them. "Ion, let's get going. Tear, see you soon?"

She nodded, smiling at him, and walked them out of the room.


	7. In My Life

Sync was starting to get used to waking up in unfamiliar places, and that annoyed him. At the same time, though, it didn't sink in to him immediately that he was alive. He'd thought for certain that Mohs's spy was about to use his antagonism as an excuse to silence him for good. Not that it mattered if he died or not, but he didn't want to die a pathetic death if he could help it. He grunted as he squeezed his eyes against the light, then cracked them open to see cupboards to one side and the idiot replica Luke leaning over him.

"Oh, good, you're awake," he said, relieved.

"Eugh," Sync grumbled, then shut his eyes again.

"Hey! You can't just pretend to go back to sleep! C'mon!"

"What do you want?" he growled.

"To talk to you," said his voice.

Sync silently counted to five, then sat up and glared at the idiot replica and the soft-hearted fool, now both seated next to him. To his surprise, the door to the room they were in (which, based on the stoves and pantry, looked to be a kitchen) was open, and the three of them were the only ones in the room. Sync was immediately suspicious and refocused on the other replicas.

"I've got nothing to say to either of you," Sync told them.

"Well, we've got something to say to you," said the idiot replica. "And that's... sorry."

Sync waited for a moment. When that seemed to be it, he furrowed his eyebrows. "Sorry?"

"Yeah, you know... For keeping you locked up all that time," said the idiot, rubbing his head. "We all talked about it and we decided... Well, you're still dangerous and we don't want to underestimate you or anything, but we also want you to feel like you can be safe here. So, well, you can walk around now. Just not by yourself. Okay?"

Sync stared at him, bemused. _Am I still asleep?_ he wondered. He dug fingernails in his cheek, and the sting of pain told him no. "This is a trick," he concluded instead. "What're you playing at?"

"It's not a trick, Sync," Ion insisted. "Even Jade agreed to it. As long as you have at least one of us with you, you can go where you please."

Jade... the Necromancer. Sync narrowed his eyes at Ion. Sync had exulted in being able to hurt the Necromancer, but he was certain the Necromancer wouldn't shrug that off. He stood up. "If it's not a trick, then I want to go on a walk," he announced. "Right now."

"Okay," the idiot replied, standing up. "Oh, wait, you want something to eat while we're here? Ion thought you might wake up hungry."

"I'm fine," Sync lied. "Let's go."

To his silent surprise, no one was waiting outside the room. The Albiore wasn't a big place so the "tour" didn't last long, and he'd have preferred literally anyone else's company to the other two replicas save the Necromancer himself, but he was forced to conclude by the end that it wasn't a trick. The idiots really were letting him walk freely.

Well. "Freely." He still had his fon slot-sealing shackle and now he had babysitters too. He'd seen the Necromancer in the cockpit with Princess Natalia and the pilot, and the rest had been near the engine room, so they weren't being completely stupid about it, either. It remained a big change.

In the end, they returned to the kitchen/dining room. Sync picked a chair and sat down.

"There must be limitations," he declared. "You can't supervise me forever."

"Yeah," Luke replied. "You're gonna be in your room -"

"Cell."

"...Right. Your cell. Uh, you'll be in there when it's time to sleep, and when the rest of us have to leave the Albiore."

"We'll pick up books for you, though," Ion added, seating himself opposite him, "and if you've got any other requests, such as something you'd like to eat or something from the store, we can get that for you too. Within reason, of course."

Sync laughed. It was too ironic for him not to. "So in other words, you'll be my servants as long as I agree to stay caged up here like a good boy?"

The idiot replica winced, as Sync had been certain he would. "Look, it's not like that, Sync. Why do you have to be such a jerk? We're just trying to help you."

"_Help_ me? You really are an idiot," Sync sneered. "I never asked you to do this, so don't get mad at me when I don't trip over myself with gratitude. You're only doing this for your own self-satisfaction in the first place. I was supposed to die in the core, remember? If _you'd_ kept your hands to yourself, _I_ wouldn't be here to be a jerk at you." He narrowed his eyes. "So if you've got a problem, you've only got yourself to blame."

"Do you really think you'd be better off dead than here with us?" Ion wondered, clutching his knees.

"Yes," Sync replied without hesitation. "I'd finally be free of this pointless life."

"There isn't any life that's pointless!" Luke insisted. "There can't be!"

"Stay in denial all you want," Sync replied, lifting his chin to look down on him. "But just as a reminder, you were born for no other purpose than to die. Surviving Akzeriuth was an unhappy accident."

Luke went pale. "I..."

"Do you say the most hurtful things possible just because you can?" Ion asked unhappily.

"So what if I do? It's still the truth."

"Yeah... You're right," Luke said thickly. "The only reason I survived was because Tear was there, and Master Van didn't want her to be. I really was... just sent there to die." He forced himself to face Ion's worried frown and Sync's faint, humorless smirk. "B-but that's why I have to do everything I can to stop him. I have to, to make up for all the people I killed. Sync, you said yourself Van sent you on a suicide mission. What could you possibly owe him now?"

Sync's expression drained away. He wasn't ungrateful for his training and the opportunity Van gave him to take revenge on the world, but- "Nothing. I don't owe him a thing."

Luke and Ion both stared in surprise. "Wait, what?"

"Everything Van did 'for' me, he did to make me into something he could use. In return, I lived as his tool, and I would've died as his tool if you hadn't stopped me. So I don't owe him anything any more than he owes me."

As the two replicas gaped at him, someone said from the doorway, "I'd say he owes you a damn apology."

All three turned to see an angry-looking Anise. Sync tensed as she marched in and got up in his face, but he didn't back down.

"Just tell me one thing, Sync!" she demanded. "If you don't owe him anything, why're you still supporting him?"

"Yeah!" Luke chimed in. "You don't have to do what he says!"

"There's still something I want him to do," Sync replied, not bothering to hide his disdain, "and everything _you're_ doing interferes with it. In case that didn't penetrate your thick skulls, let me bottom-line it for you: we're _never_ going to be allies."

"Let me guess. You're not gonna tell us what that something is," Luke said.

Sync sneered. "So the idiot _can_ learn."

"That's rich, coming from you," Anise said.

He shot her a glare. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean if you think the Commandant's going to do anything for you when he doesn't even respect you, you're the real idiot," she shot back.

Sync almost laughed. He smirked instead. "Lucky for me, what I want him to do is something he was going to do anyway." The smirk faded. "I know perfectly well no one would ever do anything for my sake."

"Gee, with your charming personality? I can't imagine why not."

Ion held up a placating gesture. "Anise, don't you think you're going a little too far?"

"She can say what she wants," Sync said, resting one hand on his hip. "It might as well be rappig grunts for all it bothers me." He flashed her a smile full of nothing but teeth. "Though I guess there's not much difference."

"Whaaaat?!" Anise squawked. "Are you seriously comparing my adorable voice to a rappig's?! You need your ears cleaned, Sync! You can get your dumb trash-talking mouth cleaned out at the same time, too!"

"Hey, is it my fault you're naturally annoying? But you're right. You're not a rappig. You're more like a mosquito: tiny, bloodsucking, and constantly whining," Sync shot back.

"Awww, are you just saying that 'cuz I get under your skin?" Anise trilled, twirling her fingers into her cheeks.

Sync rolled his eyes. "If _you_ got under my skin, I'd have to get a set of rabies shots."

"Too bad! It'd do you some good to get infected by my cuteness," she quipped back, undaunted. "You need _something_ to counteract being a gigantic asshole."

In spite of himself, he smirked. "What? And lose my edge? No thanks. I'd rather keep on crushing your pathetic hopes and dreams."

"Ooh, sounds like someone needs a hug!"

Sync opened his mouth to return the volley, but was distracted when he caught the looks on his fellow replicas's faces. "What're you two smirking about?"

Luke, who was more grimacing that smirking, shook his head. "Oh, nothing."

"I'm just so glad to see you two finally getting along," Ion replied, actually smiling his usual dopey smile.

Sync squinted at him. "What about this looks like 'getting along' to you?"

"All of it," he replied serenely. "If Anise were actually mad at you, you'd know it."

_I see intelligence wasn't a necessary trait in making the Fon Master's replacement._

The words were on Sync's tongue, but it occurred to the God-General that he _did_ know it. She had plenty of bite to her, but there was a world of difference compared to her violent aggression before he got put to sleep. There wasn't any... ill will, if he had to define it. Thinking matters over further, he realized his tension had seeped away after swapping jabs with her. Trading venom had made him feel oddly... better. Sync threw her a wary glance. She smirked back.

"Now that we've calmed down," Ion continued, "there's something I'd like to ask you, Sync. Well, it's more of a request, really."

_This ought to be good._ "What do you want?"

"When Anise said it, it was a joke, I think, but I just thought, well... And I apologize if this is too forward, but - may I please give you a hug?"

"Woah! That _is_ forward," Luke uttered.

"I understand if you'd rather not," Ion added hastily.

But Sync only frowned. "What _is_ a hug, anyway?"

He regretted asking the instant all three of them went dead silent, expressions twisting into a mixture of horror and pity.

"You don't even know what a hug is?" the idiot redhead whispered.

Sync answered frostily, "Just answer the question."

Ion swallowed hard and straightened his shoulders. "A hug is when you wrap your arms around someone and just... hold them gently. Usually the person being hugged does the same in return, but not always."

Sync sneered. "Sounds stupid."

The seventh lowered his eyes. "I thought you might say that. I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable, Sync."

"You didn't make me uncomfortable," he lied. "I said it sounds stupid because it does. Who'd waste their time with garbage like that?"

For some reason, both Ion and Luke looked over at Anise. She'd already launched herself forward, though, and before anyone could properly react, she'd wrapped her arms around Sync's torso.

"WOAH! What the hell're you doing!?" he bellowed, jerking back to no avail. "Get off! _Get off_, dammit!"

"I'm giving you a hug, you stupid jerk! Now shut up and accept it!"

Ion looked stricken and held his hands out ineffectually, while Luke palmed his face in secondhand embarrassment. Sync noticed, and it made him angrier. He shoved at Anise as best he could, but she clung tight and his left arm was trapped under her chest.

"_I said get off_! GET THE HELL OFF!"

He yanked one of her pigtails as he twisted his trapped arm. She yelped and kicked him in the shin in response. When he gritted his teeth but didn't let go, she stumbled a half-step and pushed her weight against him. While she didn't weigh much, it was enough to put him off-balance. He tried to right his footing, but his ankle caught on something, and a couple seconds later, Anise and the floor sandwiched the air out of him.

Luke and Ion hurried over as Anise sat up, but Sync heard two too many sets of footsteps. A second later, the reasons why rushed through the doorway.

"What's the matter?!" Tear called, voice crisp and sharp.

"Luke! Is everyone okay!?" Guy chimed in after her, a few steps behind.

They both fell silent when they saw Anise straddling a very angry Sync.

"Uhh... Haha... Hi, guys," she squeaked.

"Noooot really," Luke said, grimacing.

"Did we... interrupt something?" Guy asked, eyebrows going up.

"Things just got a little out of hand," Ion murmured. "I asked Sync if I could hug him. He said no, and Anise, well..."

"It turns out Sync isn't a very huggy person. Teehee?" Anise finished, trying to laugh it off.

Sync shoved her again. "Get. OFF!"

Tear scowled, marched the rest of the way inside, planted her hands on her hips, and leaned over her teammate. "Anise, get off him this instant."

She scrambled to her feet and backed away. The God-General spun to his feet and dropped into a combat stance. Ion held his breath, but Tear didn't even bat an eyelash. Instead, she glared at her companion.

"Anise, I'm ashamed of you," she said, voice sharp. "You should know better than to assault an unarmed boy."

"I-I wasn't assaulting him, I was giving him a hug!" she protested, but she cringed as she did.

"A hug someone tells you repeatedly they don't want is no different from assault." Tear faced the Tempest, now calm. "I'm sorry that happened to you, Sync. Will you be all right?"

Of all the things he could have anticipated, an apology wasn't one of them. He eyed Tear, who held his glare without blinking. Then he straightened, settling a hand on his hip.

"There's no point in _you_ apologizing. You had nothing to do with it."

She shut her eyes. "Even so."

"Um. Sorry, Sync," Anise murmured, fidgeting. "I was just -"

"Apology not accepted. Get out of my sight," Sync snapped.

She winced, then scowled. "Hey, you don't give me orders! And don't act so self-righteous! Not after what you did this morning!"

An intense desire to reveal Anise as the true traitor seized Sync. He throttled it and instead bared his teeth at her in a rictor mortis grin. "Sorry I'm too much of a failure to give you orders, _Fon Master Guardian_."

She flinched at that. Then she shook her head like a dog and grabbed the seventh Ion by the wrist. "I've had enough of you today. C'mon, Ion, let's get out of here."

"Anise, I -"

But there was no resisting the angry girl, and she stomped out with Ion in tow.

"Iiiii'd better go after her," Luke said. "Guy, Tear, can you two take over?" When they nodded assent, he hurried out without looking at Sync.

Guy watched him go, but Tear kept her eyes on the God-General. Guy looked back and scratched his head.

"So why in the world did she decide to hug you anyway?" he asked.

"Don't ask me. You're wasting your time."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." He folded his arms and smiled, unruffled. "You hungry, Sync? I was heading here to fix myself a snack anyway."

He was starving, but he was also in no mood to be honest about it. "Do whatever you want."

Guy and Tear shared a glance. Then Guy walked over to the pantries while Tear took up a post at the doorway where she could watch the entire room. No one spoke further. Privately welcoming the change in guards, Sync chose a seat where he could watch them both in turn. When later he was escorted to his cell and locked in for the night, he was almost grateful for it.

* * *

It didn't last.

It was sometime past midnight, at Sync's best guess, when the outer door unlocked. He'd lost himself in the rhythm of a set of sit-ups, but the sound sliced through his consciousness and put him on high alert. He wasn't surprised to see an Anise-sized shadow slip inside the door. All the same, he was on his feet in an instant, well aware that he had no escape routes or any real way of defending himself if she truly wanted to kill him. The lights flicked on, and...

"Oh, it's you," he said, feigning a lack of concern. "What do you want?"

Anise blinked. "Wow, you're up. And here I was worried about how to wake you."

"I only need four or five hours of sleep a night. What do you want?"

"Whaaaaat? Seriously?! No wonder you're so mean and nasty all the time!"

Sync rolled his eyes. "_What do you want_?"

"Oh, right." Anise frowned and planted her fists on her hips. "I wanted to talk to you about what you were saying earlier today. About the traitor."

He raised an eyebrow and waited for her to continue.

It took her a few seconds, but she didn't disappoint. She sucked in a deep breath, then quietly demanded, "Why didn't you just say who it was?"

He let the other eyebrow rise in affected disdain. "Why should I tell you that?"

Her fists tightened. "There wasn't any reason for you to jerk everyone around like that!"

He smirked toothily. "You say that like you think I know who it is."

She opened her mouth, got halfway through a word before her brain caught up to her, paused, shut her mouth, and stared at him for a moment. "Why _wouldn't_ you know? You're Chief of Staff!"

"So?"

She hesitated, then peered at him. He maintained his poker face. She settled on her heels.

"You really don't know?"

"Interesting. You believe me?"

She averted her eyes for a split-second. Then she glared back at him. "I gotta keep Ion safe. I can't afford to just assume you're lying about a traitor like the others did!"

_Nice save, Anise,_ Sync though, smirk widening. Then he let it fade and shrugged. "I've never received information from them directly, nor has the intermediary who passes along the information ever told me who they are. But one of you is definitely a spy."

"Just one?"

Sync cackled. He couldn't help it, even if he'd wanted to. It felt too good to twist Anise around. "What, you're _that_ worried? So much for friendship, huh?" He bared his teeth in another malicious grin. "There's just one... that I know of, in your immediate group. Who knows who else among your acquaintances might be leaking information on your precious Fon Master?"

She puffed out a sigh, eyebrows knit upwards. "Oh."

The lack of reaction was unexpected. Sync waited a moment. "Was that all you wanted?"

"No." She took another deep breath and squared her shoulders. "I wanted to apologize again for hugging you earlier. I'm sorry, Sync. I won't do it again, okay?"

A slow frown dripped down his lips. He studied her for a few seconds. "So you're sorry about the 'hug,' but you're not sorry about threatening to kill me?"

"I didn't say _that_!" Anise paused, frowning. "But actually, no, I'm not sorry about that part, you trash-talking jerk."

Sync smirked. _How refreshingly honest._ "Good, because I'm not sorry for talking trash."

"Good! Then we're even!"

He shook his head. "Did the Fon Master order you to come here?"

"No! Well, he didn't _order_ me..."

Sync laughed faintly and without humor. "But you're still here because he wanted you to say something."

"Maybe he did, but I really am sorry for the surprise hug." She shrugged. "Sure, you're an insufferable toolbag with his head stuck up his ass, but... I still shouldn't have grabbed you."

"Gee, with a heartfelt apology like that, how could I _not_ forgive you?"

"Heehee. So... are we okay?"

"_No_, we're not okay, idiot. We're enemies! And don't you know sarcasm when you hear it?"

Anise rolled her eyes. "No, I had my sense of sarcasm surgically removed at birth. Jeez, Sync, you think I couldn't tell? And here I thought you were maybe a little fun."

_Fun?_ "You're unbelievable."

"Whatever. G'night, you insomniac."

"Good riddance."

Anise stuck out her tongue and left, turning off the lights behind her. Sync remained still for a moment to consider the conversation and how, despite everything, it too had left him feeling slightly better. He shook his head, then resumed his exercise.


	8. Liquid

The next morning, Tear came to let Sync out of his cell. Beyond a couple annoying pleasantries like "good morning" and "are you doing all right?" she said little to him. Sync preferred it that way. He preferred it better once he got her to drop the empty words. That made Van's sister monitoring him borderline tolerable.

After breakfast, the group broke to prepare for the flight to their next destination. This time, it was Guy who stuck close to him. It was a little impressive; Sync neither saw nor heard any indication of discussion of who was going to monitor him next. He wondered if they'd set up a turn system while he'd been unconscious yesterday.

Not that it was important. Guy made a good show of being easygoing, but Sync knew from Van about how revenge motivated him. He doubted he'd just forgotten about the curse slot seal incident, or more recently, the jabs Sync made about it - not that Guy made a useful puppet in the end. Better to toe the line with him around. The only thing Sync had to say to him was a request for reading material. After the humiliation the Necromancer had made him suffer, it seemed stupid to be stubborn about asking for anything. Once Guy provided, he settled into the passenger room to read, even though Anise, Luke, Ion and the cheagle were already there. He'd be damned if he let them know he was still bothered by yesterday, though he ignored them when they tried to talk to him, too.

By the time the airship took off, Sync had buried himself in his book while Guy and Luke had started sword maintenance. The cheagle squeaked encouragements from Luke's shoulder, and Ion and Anise loitered. Before long, he was able to tune them out almost completely, but that didn't stop them from continuing conversation at their own pace.

After the second hour of flight, Anise draped herself across a chair, completely unnecessarily. "I'm bored."

"I know you must be getting stir-crazy, but there's still a couple more hours before we get where we're going. You're just gonna have to be patient," Guy said, looking up from his sword-cleaning over at her.

She pushed herself up to glare at him. "That's what's boring!" She gestured at the room. "We've been flying around so much lately and there's nothing to _do_ when we're in the air!"

"You could polish Tokunaga with Master!" Mieu suggested, bushy ears quivering with the desire to be helpful.

Anise side-eyed him. "I don't think that stinky polish would do much for a doll."

"Mieuuu..."

"I know what you mean, Anise," Luke sympathized. "Times like this, I kinda miss the Tartarus. You could play a mean game of hide-and-seek in a huge ship like that."

"Haha - we never did get a chance, though, huh?" Guy said, crooking a grin at his friend. "The Albiore's just as great, though! It might not be as big as the Tartarus, but I bet there's plenty of good spots."

"Huh. You think so?"

Mieu perked up. "Master! Let's play together! I know you'll be amazing!"

Anise was on her feet in an instant, sidling up to the redhead. "Luuuuke! He's right! We should test it out!"

"Heh. Sure, sounds fun!" he said, smiling at Mieu and Anise. "I gotta warn you two, though, I'm invincible when it comes to hide-and-seek!"

Mieu leaned forward, expression deadly serious. "I'll do my very best!"

"Oooh, sounds scaryy! Guy, you'll protect me, won't you?" Anise trilled, leaning over to beam at the blond.

"Haha. I'd love to, but..." He tilted his head slightly towards the corner in which Sync sat and read.

"Oh, right," Luke said. He turned to his fellow replicas. "Hey Ion, Sync, you guys wanna come play with us?"

"Sure," Ion said, getting to his feet.

Sync ticked a baleful and pointedly silent look up Luke's way.

"...Is that a no?" Luke hazarded while Anise crossed the room to join Ion.

Sync lowered his eyes back to his book and didn't respond.

"Don't worry about it, Luke," Guy reassured him. "You guys go and have fun. I'll stay here with Sync."

"Okay," Luke agreed, but disappointment suffused every syllable and inflection of the word.

"If he's staying, I'll stay after all, too," Ion said, settling back into his chair. "I'd rather be near Sync."

"Oh. So I guess it's just the three of us after all."

"Aw, c'mon," Anise insisted, turning to the others. "It's more fun with more people! And anyway, Sync, I bet you've never even _played_ hide-and-seek before."

"No, I haven't," he replied without looking up, "and I doubt I'm missing anything."

Luke, Guy, and Ion, who already had a solid idea of what was coming next, shared a glance. Mieu just looked confused and slightly nervous. Anise marched up to Sync, fists on her hips, and stared down at him until he finally gave her a flat look.

"What."

"You're coming with us," she declared.

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are!"

"Do you really want _me_ playing a game that involves hiding?"

"Sure! It's hide-and-_seek_. Someone's gonna come find you. And how far can you go when we're a thousand feet or whatever in the air?"

He sighed irritably. It occurred to him that he could commit some sabotage, but the cockpit and engine room were probably both still guarded, or else someone would have shot down the offer already. "Why do you even want me along? I'd just ruin your 'fun.'"

"You're already ruining it by _not_ joining in," Anise said, shrugging. "So if you're gonna be a ruiner either way, you may as well come join us."

"As amazingly tempting as that sounds, I'll pass," Sync said, returning to his book.

"Don't worry!" Mieu called, waving a tiny paw. "If you're scared of losing, I'm sure Master will go easy on you!"

Sync's grip on the text tightened.

"What're you doing?!" Luke hissed.

"Huh? B-but you said you were invincible when it comes to hide-and-seek," he squeaked, ears turning back. "I thought that'd be scary to someone who's never played before. Poor Sync!"

Sync ground his teeth together.

"That's amazingly... both thoughtful and thoughtless of you," Guy said.

"Aw, shucks!" the cheagle beamed.

"If Sync doesn't want to play, that's all right," Ion said. "We shouldn't force him."

"Yeah..." Luke agreed, shooting a glance at Sync. "Okay, yeah, you're right. I'd feel bad if I -" he raised his voice, "- _kicked his butt too easily_."

Ion cast him a disappointed look. Sync slapped his book down on the chair next to him and stood, making Anise retreat a step.

"Is that so?" he said coldly. "You think you're better than me?"

Luke got to his feet too, sporting a cocky grin. "I _know_ I'm better than you!"

Sync bared his teeth in what could technically be called a grin, too. "Oh, _really_. Then if I crush you in your stupid little game, you won't have anything to take pride in anymore. Did I get that right?"

"Easy, easy," Guy warned, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "We're just having a nice, friendly game of hide-and-seek, okay?"

"Right," Sync sneered, placing a hand on his hip. "'Friendly.'"

"Heh, don't worry about me, Guy!" Luke said, no less enthusiastic. "Bring it on, Sync! I won't lose!"

"May the best hide-and-seeker win!" Anise cheered, pumping a fist. "Which is gonna be me, 'cause I'm the smallest and the cutest!"

"Get real! It's totally gonna be me!" Luke argued.

"Yeah! Master will win for sure!" Mieu, who was much smaller than Anise, chimed in.

"Sync, are you really sure about this?" Ion wondered as they bantered, expression pinched. "Do you even know the rules?"

"I don't need _you_ worrying about me. I'll figure it out. I always do."

"...So, does that mean you don't want an explanation?" Guy hazarded.

"No, I don't."

"_I_ do," Ion said. "I'm aware of the basics, but I've never played, either."

"Oh man, it's so much fun!" Luke enthused, switching gears. "Don't worry, Ion, I'll go easy on you!"

He smiled. "Thank you. I appreciate that."

Sync eyed Luke. "Are you going to 'go easy' on me too?"

"No way. You're going down!"

He smirked. "We'll just see about that."

Guy went over the basics with them: each game started with someone who was "it," who would close their eyes and count to thirty. Everyone else had until then to hide, and when the seeker was done counting, they announced that and started searching. Whoever wasn't found after ten minutes, or whoever was found last, won that round. One counted as "found" when the person who was "it" tapped them on the shoulder.

_Half a minute to hide, ten minutes to stay hidden. Seems simple enough,_ Sync thought, placing a hand on his hip. "So we can hide wherever we want?"

"The cockpit's off-limits. So's the engine room," Guy said firmly.

"Tear and Natalia are in the cockpit with Noelle today, and the Colonel said he was headed to the engine room," Anise added, "so I don't think anyone wants to go there anyway."

"Duly noted," said Sync, who had already figured as much.

Guy agreed to be "it" first. They moved out into the hallway, and when he started counting, Anise grabbed Ion's hand and pulled him to the left, while Luke darted to the right, Mieu still clinging to his shoulder. Sync tailed Luke. Keeping tabs on idiot redheads was a familiar task, and if he was as good as everyone claimed, he might learn something from him.

He watched him slip into the kitchen, and peeked in after him. From the doorway, he could see the tail of the idiot's coat poking out from behind the dividing counter.

Sync smirked. _Invincible at hide-and-seek? What a joke. Anyone could spot him from all the way out here._

He moved on for the stairwell that led to the lower level. No one was hiding in the space beneath the steps, so he slid underneath into the cluttered shadows, making a point to pull all of his outfit in with him. It wasn't a great hiding spot, as he could potentially be seen from above or the side through the slats in the stairs, but he felt confident it was better than the idiot replica's. He didn't have to win - just make the idiot eat his words. The sooner this inane game was over with, the sooner he'd be done with them, too.

He heard Guy's voice, distantly. A minute passed, then two. In minute three, he heard the Malkuthian tip-toeing down the steps, then slip through the bottom doorway. It struck Sync as odd, since Guy was supposed to be looking, not hiding, but he supposed it'd be better to look in silence.

Less than a minute later, another set of footsteps descended the steps, to Sync's puzzlement. He'd counted less than ten minutes, so the game couldn't be over yet, but he hadn't heard anyone come back up, either. They, too, passed through the doorway. A moment later, footsteps came creeping back, picking up speed once they were partway up the stairs and out of sight of the doorway. Sync poked his head out to get a better look, and spotted baggy black pants...

_The idiot replica?_ he wondered, frowning. There hadn't been any mention in the rules about moving around during the game. What was he...

A sound from the doorway made him duck back underneath out of instinct. The next instant, Guy appeared at the doorway. From the shadows, Sync watched him look around the stairwell, then approach the spot where he was hidden. Frustration bubbled up inside him, knowing he'd be found before the idiot replica, but there wasn't anywhere for him to run. When Guy ducked his head underneath, Sync met his stare with a scowl.

"Hey there, Sync," Guy said, leaning in to pat him on the shoulder. "I didn't see you at all coming down. That was a pretty good hiding spot!"

"Not good enough," Sync replied, slipping out from underneath. "The idiot was sneaking around behind your back. Is that allowed by the rules?"

"'The idiot'... you mean Luke?" Guy wondered, smiling sheepishly. "Yup, the rules don't say you have to stick to one hiding spot."

Sync narrowed his eyes. "So then his jacket..."

"Oh, you saw that?" Guy rubbed his neck. "I had a feeling it was a trick, but I checked it out anyway. He left it out where I could see it, but he wasn't actually wearing it. I'm guessing he snuck around and out the door while I was distracted."

"That -"

_That's actually pretty clever._

Sync's expression darkened. He folded his arms. "You missed him just now. He ran upstairs a few seconds before you came out again."

"Oh yeah? I better get back to looking for him before time runs out." Guy crooked a smile at him. "Thanks for the tip. C'mon, let's get going. You can help me look if you want."

"Is _that_ part of the rules?"

"Depends on which version of hide-and-seek you play, but... Anyway, let's get moving."

Sync obeyed. Irritatingly, it turned out he'd been the first one found. Guy tagged Anise next a couple minutes later - or more accurately, made Sync tag her - and Ion almost immediately after. Around nine minutes, it seemed like he'd catch Luke, but it turned out it was just Mieu holding up a red wig in midair. When ten minutes passed, Luke himself was nowhere to be found.

"Yay! I was helpful to Master!" Mieu cheered, wiggling in midair as Guy called nonsense words to get Luke to come out of hiding.

"Yes, that was very clever of you two," Ion told him warmly. "That game was pretty fun! What did you think, Sync?"

"I think it must be easy to do well in a game when you're protected by someone the 'it' is too terrified to tag himself," Sync replied.

Anise made a face. "Stop being such a sore loser, Sync."

Before anyone else could say anything, Luke appeared, jogging forward to join the group and looking inordinately pleased with himself.

"Hell yeah, I won!" he cheered, seeing everyone else already gathered. "Heh heh. I told you guys I was invincible!"

Sync scowled but glanced away and said nothing. Anise looked at him sidelong, then shrugged at the redhead.

"Well, duh, of course you won. How many people are you playing that've never played before?" she said. "Not to mention it was Guy looking for you."

Luke frowned. "Hey, Anise, you mind not raining all over my parade?"

She grinned and clapped her hands together. "I'm just saying, if I was looking instead of your usual babysitter, you wouldn't get off so easy~!"

"Babysitter..." Guy echoed.

"Hah! I'm gonna make you eat those words!" the redhead declared, thrusting a finger her way. "Let's go again! Round two!"

"This is stupid," Sync complained. Still, he let the others drag him into the next game.

This time, he took it seriously: he deliberately lagged behind the others and let them dash off, then hid just around the corner from Anise so he could keep track of the "it." When she made it to thirty, he made note of the first room she searched, then jumped up to the pipe-laden ceiling and slid into the tiny gap therein. He'd noticed it earlier, but had dismissed it as a hiding spot because it was so small. As a temporary spot, though, it'd work just fine. When she passed underneath, he waited 'til she was out of sight, then hopped down and went back the way Anise had come. There was no one in sight. He smirked as he slipped into the passenger room and shut the door behind him.

_She'll probably come back again to double-check,_ he thought, looking around the room. _But this ought to buy me some time._

There were several spots where he couldn't see the floor from the entrance. Sync padded towards one of them and crouched down between the seats. He estimated it'd already been two minutes; from here, he'd just have to wait another eight.

After another couple of minutes had passed, it occurred to him that if Anise returned to re-search the room, it'd be smart to have a route plotted out to sneak around her. For a moment, Sync debated if that was overdoing it; then he decided a moment's effort was worth wiping off that smug look on the idiot replica's face. He slunk around the perimeter, keeping his head ducked down.

As he passed through a row of seats, a sound came from the hallway. Sync froze. Nothing further happened, either then or after a moment. Still, Sync was closer to the front than he liked, and he was in the middle of the aisle. Deciding to take a chance, he flipped over the seat next to him into the next row.

He didn't see Luke gaping up in horror at him until it was too late.

Both of them yelped when he crashed into him, and trying to right himself just made Sync end up sprawling all over the other replica. Luke struggled to free an arm, then promptly used it to try to shove him away by the face.

"Hey! Get your own hiding spot!" he hissed. "What the hell are you even doing here?!"

Sync shoved him back, also by the face. "Avoiding Anise! That's the whole point!" he hissed back.

"Well, avoid her somewhere else! There's no room here for two people!"

"Tch. This is stupid," Sync growled, trying to get to his feet. Luke was right, though; there really wasn't room for two people. Using a nearby seat as a prop, he only just managed to get to his knees. "If _you're _supposedly invincible at hide-and-seek, why don't you just get another spot?"

"Why should I?!" he protested hotly, scooting back. "I was here first!"

"Don't be such a child," Sync snapped.

"Who's a child?! I already told you, I wasn't going to go easy on you!" Luke thrust a finger at him. "I. Was here. _First_! You wanna take me on? Go get your own new hiding spot!"

Sync grit his teeth, but he couldn't contest that logic. "Fine."

"_Fine_!"

The God-General rose to his feet and felt a hand clasp his shoulder. He turned to see Anise next to him, leaning over a seat in the row in front, an amused smirk on her lips.

"Hi, Luke!" she trilled.

"Oh shit!" The redhead scrambled around and dashed out into an aisle, where he literally ran into Guy. The blond must have already been tagged, because he caught Luke and clapped him on the shoulder with a laugh, much to the redhead's cursing.

The cheagle swooped in, tiny paws tilted towards his mouth. "Sorry, Master! I tried to tell them you definitely weren't in here, but Anise wouldn't listen!"

Luke sighed irritably, then forced himself to smile at it. "It's okay, it's not your fault." He brightened. "But hey, this means I'm last, so I still win!"

"Tch," Sync uttered, folding his arms.

"Actually... not quite," Guy said, grinning.

"Huh?" Luke stared at his friend, then looked around the room. Sync had been tagged a moment before him, and Guy and Mieu were with Anise, so they had to have been tagged already too. That just left...

At that moment, Ion appeared at the doorway, looking slightly out of breath. "I heard a loud thump! Is everyone all right?" he called.

"Yup! Everyone's fine!" Anise cheered, waving a hand over her head. She hopped off the seat and started walking towards the aisle. "Actually, all these guys have already been tagged, so you're the last one left!"

"Oh. Oh!" Ion lit up. "Does this mean I won?"

Luke made a face somewhere between like he'd just watched his puppy get kicked and like he was about to kick that puppy himself. Sync looked like he'd been force-fed poison.

"Wow! You're really strong, Ion!" Mieu cheered. "You even beat Master at hide-and-seek, and he's invincible!"

"Thank you," Ion said, beaming, as he approached the group.

"I-I was just going easy on him!" Luke protested, turning scarlet. "It'd be boring for everyone else if I won all the time!"

Sync, who'd joined the others in the aisle, sneered at him. "Nice excuse."

The redhead wheeled on him. "Hey, shut up! You got caught before me!"

"I'm not the one who's supposedly invincible."

"Whatever! You still didn't beat me!"

Sync made another irritated sound, but he had no argument for that. Guy nudged Luke with an elbow, and Luke stared at him for a second before clueing in.

"...But, you know, that one didn't really count," he added quickly. "Anise cheated and all."

"_Hey_! I did _not_!"

"So let's do this head-to-head!" Luke continued, ignoring her. "I'll be seeker this time! You won't get away from me!"

"A straight-up bout?" Sync dropped his hand from his hip. "Fine by me. Try and hunt me down if you can!"

"You're on!" Luke enthused.

Everyone else joined in too. The next round went quickly. Sync technically won that one, being the last one found, but with six minutes left by the end, he wasn't satisfied. It was his turn to seek if he wanted to, and he found he _did_ want to. It was clear there was in fact a gap between him and the redhead, but even so, he seized the opportunity.

_After all, I'm not an idiot,_ he told himself as he stalked through the interior of the plane, keeping his eyes sharp for any hint of movement, ears sharp for any hint of sound. _I lost twice in a row already, and he found me in four minutes last time. Invincible or not, I know I can't beat him._

He stopped under the pipes he'd hidden in earlier, jumped up to peek in, and found that cheagle flailing in heart-stopping shock and gaping back at him. Seeing no reason to ignore a tag, Sync grabbed him, pulled him out, and hopped back onto the floor.

"Aaaah! I'm not going to tell you where Master is!" the cheagle squeaked, still flailing. "I'm going to be useful to Master!"

Sync's frown deepened. _Useful, huh._ "Now that I really listen to you, you sure sound like him," he remarked. "You're all Master this, Master that."

"Mieu? Sound like who?" the cheagle wondered, blinking widely up at him.

"You're an idiot like him, too," Sync concluded, tossing it over one shoulder. "If you're not going to help me, then I have no use for you."

It squealed cheagle noises, but managed to right itself in midair. Sync hurried along past it towards the stairwell that led to the lower level. No one was hiding under the stairs or in the room past them. At least, it seemed that way at first, but while he was on his way out, he heard a shuffling that was too large to belong to a rat. When he investigated, he found...

"Oh, it's you," he said.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" Anise demanded, shaking a fist from her hiding spot behind a cold boiler. "It's an amazing privilege to get to tag me! You should be glad!"

"Whatever. I don't have time for you," he replied, turning to leave.

"Wh - hey! You aren't gonna..."

Her voice cut off when he shut the door behind him. This area was small, but Luke was given to moving around, so he couldn't anticipate that he wouldn't run here. If he had some dirt or dust, he could strew it on the stairs behind him and keep an eye out for if any descending footprints appeared... No point in cursing what he didn't have, though. He reached the top and paused to think.

_If I were trying to hide from myself, where would I go?_

The answer to that was obvious: the cockpit or the engine room, being places that were supposed to be off-limits. Unfortunately, it wasn't a useful answer, since the idiot replica wasn't likely to break any actual rules. The passenger room seemed unlikely, but he'd already checked out the downstairs and there weren't many other spots besides that.

_Maybe the kitchen?_ he thought, and moved forward. He stopped and turned when he heard a sound behind him.

Anise was at the foot of the stairs, looking unamused. "Did you seriously just walk away without tagging me?"

"I already found you. Going in after you for the official tag would've been too much of a hassle," he replied. "I'm not in this to catch _you_."

"Well, I'm right here, so come and catch me!"

He turned away. "I'll pass."

When he started jogging away, Anise chased after him. He glanced over his shoulder, annoyed.

"That's no fair! You can't play with just Luke and leave me hanging!" she protested, dashing to keep pace with him.

"I'm not -"

But he cut himself off, eyes widening. There were no real stakes in what he was doing. No real consequences would befall either of them, regardless of who won or lost.

_So then... this is what 'playing' is like...?_

Anise was pursing her lips at him. To cover up his pause, he breathed out a sigh and slapped her on the shoulder. "There, you're tagged. Now get lost."

"Ow!" she squealed, nearly grinding to a halt. She recovered a second later and chased him into the kitchen. "You're supposed to be gentle with delicate maidens like me!"

He snorted, one side of his mouth quirking up as he looked around the room. "Delicate? _You_? With all the rampaging you do on that puppet of yours?"

She stomped a foot. "It's _lady-like_ rampaging, dammit!"

It was too absurd not to laugh, and so Sync found himself laughing. Weirdly, she started laughing too, even though he was laughing at her.

_She really doesn't make any sense._

"Okay, so I'll help you find the others," she said when she'd calmed down. "You probably haven't found Luke yet, so... Have you found anyone else yet?"

Sync regarded her with furrowed brows. She looked back at him expectantly. He rested a hand on his hip. "...Just that cheagle so far."

"So that leaves Guy, Ion, and Luke," she said, pressing a finger to her chin. "Sheesh, I guess it's a good thing I let Ion hide on his own. He really wanted to try it himself this time."

"If you called for him, he'd probably come right out without suspecting a thing," Sync pointed out, watching her.

She shot him a dirty look. "Oh, come on! That's cheating! You're such a sneak, Sync."

He smirked but let it drop. "This place isn't _that_ big, so there can't be many more places to hide. I'll go in and flush them out, and you tag them if they try to run."

She nodded. "Okay, sounds good."

It almost felt weird to cooperate with an enemy, but then, he was used to working with people he disliked. The kitchen was empty too, so they moved on to the passenger room. Sync made a point of making noise as he walked through the aisle. He was a little surprised to find Guy hiding behind the end, making no attempt to run. When Sync tagged him, he quirked a good-natured smile at him and accepted defeat gracefully. It truly underscored how low the stakes were.

Guy followed them after that, though he didn't help with the searching. He had to follow, as Sync told Anise to circle around the interior from the other end, and Sync couldn't be left alone. The three of them reconvened near the stairs, having at least poked their heads into most of the rooms, but Luke was nowhere to be found.

"He probably already snuck to a new hiding place," Guy remarked, leaning on the railing. "I think it's been about eight minutes now, by the way."

"If I haven't found him by now, he definitely snuck somewhere else," Sync said.

"Hmm. Where haven't we looked so far?" Anise wondered. "You don't think he cheated and went to the cockpit or something, do you?"

"Nah, Luke wouldn't do that," Guy said. "He's pretty serious about his hide-and-seek."

Sync glanced over the railing. He thought he'd heard something like a whisper. "What a kid."

"Hey, you're a kid too," Guy pointed out.

"I might be five years younger than him, but he's still more of a kid than me," Sync replied, resting one hand on the rail.

"Mmm... That's pretty hard to deny," he admitted, hand on his chin. "But I'd bet that's because you've never been allowed to have a childhood."

Sync gauged the distance and the strength he'd need. "Sort of like you, after your fifth birthday."

Guy lowered his hand. "...Yeah, I guess so."

Anise looked back and forth between the two, biting her lip. Then she scoffed loudly. "Gee, Sync, you have a real talent for killing the mood."

"That's not the only thing I'm good at killing," Sync replied, tensing. "Just take a look at-_this_!"

He swung himself over the railing and slammed down hard on the stairs. A loud swear word, followed by an even louder CLANG and more swear words, rang through the halls. Guy and Anise hurried over to the stairs, but Sync sauntered down to the lower level, turned the corner, and reached down to tag the boy clutching his head.

"Gotcha," he said, brimming with smug self-satisfaction.

"Owww...! Did you _have_ to slam down on the stairs like that?!" Luke demanded, rubbing his scalp. Next to him, the cheagle hovered fretfully, trying to rub his head too.

"Did I _have_ to...?" Sync flashed him a razor grin. "No, not really."

"Luke! Are you all right?!" Guy called, leaning over. "You sound like you hit your head pretty hard!"

"Oof... Yeah, I'm okay!" Luke called, crawling out from the spot under the stairs. "Geez, that really surprised me... Mieu, you okay? You didn't hit your head too, did you?"

"N-no, sir! I'm all right!" the cheagle squeaked, eyes shining.

"Your name's Mieu?" Sync remarked, glancing at him askance. "What a dumb name."

"B-but it's my name," Mieu squeaked, ears turning back.

"That's just the noise cheagles make. You might as well name a dog Woof, or a cat Meow." Sync shot Anise a look. "Or Anise 'Annoying Buzz.'"

"Hey! What're you trying to say, Sync?!"

"I thought it was pretty obvious what I was saying."

"Then _your_ new name can be 'Smartass Remark'!"

He grinned sickle-sharp. "Sounds pretty good to me. Maybe there's something to this after all."

"Geez, could you two knock it off?" Luke complained. "It's embarrassing to watch you."

"Wh-what's embarrassing?" Anise protested hotly.

"He's just mad because we can't name him after the noises _he_ makes," Sync remarked. "There's already a 'Master Van' out there; it'd get confusing."

Luke sputtered. Anise cracked up. Guy failed to hide a grin. Mieu didn't even try.

"He's got you there, Luke," Guy said.

"Dammit, it's true, isn't it?" Luke groaned. "I don't even have a comeback."

Mieu swooped up and patted his head. "It's okay, Master. This means we're even closer now!"

"See?" Anise chirped, twirling her fingers in her cheeks, as Luke made a face. "We're just having a good time here!"

"You say the dumbest things, Buzz," Sync said.

"Shove it, Smartass!"

He laughed. It surprised him how natural it was starting to feel.

"You two really _are_ having a good time, huh?" Guy said, smiling lopsided.

"I'm so happy for you, Sync!" the cheagle squeaked.

"See? I knew you were fun, deep down past all the nastiness," Anise added, grinning.

Sync couldn't have come up with a more disarming combo if he'd tried. He covered his face with one hand and decided his only real option was to keep his mouth shut. Even worse, the idiot replica looked happy about it too now.

Fortunately, instead of making it worse, he looked around. "So anyway, am I the last one?"

"There's still Ion left," Guy said.

"Oh no, that's right! I almost forgot about Ion!" Anise gasped. "Ooh, he didn't get himself stuck somewhere, did he? He's hiding all on his own this time!"

"I haven't seen him since the round started," Luke offered. "Wherever he's hiding, he sure picked a good spot."

"I'm gonna go look for him!" she declared, turning around and dashing away.

"Well, duh? That's the point of the game?" Luke called after her, but she didn't respond.

Sync folded his arms and glowered at the floor as the Fon Master Guardian's footsteps retreated. When he looked back up, his expression was neutral. "...Hey, Guy."

The blond blinked down at him. "Hm? What's up?"

"Did Tear lock my cell after she escorted me out this morning?"

"No. There's no point in locking an empty cell, you know?"

"Really?" Luke said. "I kinda assumed it was. I didn't even try looking in there."

Sync's frown deepened. Then he strode up the stairs. The others followed him to his cell. When the God-General opened the unlocked door, the seventh Ion replica looked up at him from where he sat on the cot.

"I thought I'd find you here," Sync said, still frowning.

A smile blossomed on Ion's face, and he stood up. "Sync!"

Anise chose that moment to poke her head in between Luke and Guy, sending Guy bolting halfway down the hall with a terrified yelp. "Ion! _There_ you are! I can't believe I passed right by you twice!"

"Oh... I'm sorry, did I worry you all?"

"No," Sync said coolly. "You just won again. That's all."

Ion held his gaze, uncertainty flickering in his eyes.

"Wow! Ion, you're so good at this game!" Mieu chirped, oblivious. "That's twice you beat Master now!"

"Urgh," Luke grunted. Then he shook his head and smiled. "...Yeah. Great job, Ion! I never would've found you in here."

Ion's uncertainty melted back into a soft smile. "Thank you."

Sync turned around, deadpan. "I'm out of here," he declared before leaving the room.

Anise followed him out, but Ion could still hear her as the two of them grew more distant. "Oh no you don't, Smartass! Where do you think you're going all by yourself?"

"Why don't you make like your name and buzz off?"

Their argument continued, but he couldn't hear the rest. Ion, confused, looked at looked at Guy as he returned; Luke and Mieu had already left too. "What did he mean, like her name?"

"Oh, Sync and Anise gave each other joke nicknames earlier," Guy explained. "You weren't there. We were all laughing about it." He paused. "You okay, Ion?"

The youngest replica's expression had fixed in place. It loosened a second later, leaving behind his usual softness. "Y-yes... Yes, I'm fine."

Guy's eyes lingered on Ion's face, but he let it drop and accompanied him out of the cell. Later, after one more round of hide-and-seek and enough rounds of various card games to last until the Albiore reached the Nirni River, he brought Sync in to take Ion's place.


	9. Mysteria

**fun** /fun/ _n. &amp; adj._ -_n._  
**1** amusement, esp. lively or playful.  
**2** a source of this.  
**3** (in full **fun and games**) exciting or amusing goings-on. -_adj. disp. colloq._ amusing; enjoyable (_a fun thing to do_).  
\- **for fun** (or **for the fun of it**) not for a serious purpose. **have fun** enjoy oneself. **in fun** as a joke; not seriously. **make fun of** tease; ridicule.

Sync lowered the dictionary and stared into space. So he _had_ remembered the definition correctly, and there weren't any other, more malicious meanings. He'd rarely ever had to use the word so he wasn't sure. Context hadn't helped. Sync had a hard time believing that Anise, of all people, would enjoy his company. When he thought about it, he realized that the definition of "fun" applied to how he felt around her. The thought made cold sweat slither down the back of his neck.

He rested his elbow on the table in front of him and glanced at Princess Natalia, today's warden. It had been the better part of a week since Anise had wheedled him into that game of hide-and-seek. Half a day after they landed, where presumably Ion and his compatriots undid the Daathic seal at the Meggiora Highlands, the airship had lurched and nearly toppled him over in surprise. That later turned out to be a chase after Spinoza. A trip to Belkend apparently followed, and while he didn't know the particulars, he gathered that Spinoza the traitor had this time betrayed Van. Sync didn't think much of his odds for surviving through the year.

On the plus side, Ion and the others being so busy meant they had little time for inane overtures of friendship - though it was a little boring without them. On the minus side, they were also too busy to bring him much new reading material, which meant he'd spent long stretches of time repeating the same old exercise and tearing through, then re-reading, what they managed to bring. He'd requested a dictionary days ago, but Natalia had only brought him one today.

Of course, it had ended up raising more questions than it answered. The easy answer was that Anise had been sarcastic, but Sync would bet cash money that it wasn't that simple.

_Ugh. Even when she's not here, she has to be a pain in the ass,_ he grumbled. _Just when I think I have her figured out, she does something completely unexpected._

He thought for a moment, and paged backwards through the F's. There wasn't an entry for fomicry, though. Sync wondered if it just hadn't been well-known enough when this dictionary was printed, or if even defining it was taboo after it had been made forbidden. He flipped forward to the R's and found an entry for "replica."

There were a few definitions. The relevant one read: "**2 a.** a facsimile; an exact copy. **b.** (of a person) an exact likeness; a double." It, too, made no reference to fomicry. Sync leaned his chin on one hand and brooded over how he wasn't allowed to exist even in a mere collection of words.

"Sync?"

Broken from his thoughts, Sync looked up to see Van's sister. Her normally stoic expression was pinched, eyebrows furrowed. It strained her attempt at a polite smile.

"Could I ask you to help me with preparing lunch?" she continued.

He welcomed the distraction and considered her. In his view, allowing him near blades, even if she didn't actually let him use one, was a stupid, careless idea. That was unusual for Tear, who'd never struck him as either stupid or careless. Legretta had taught her well, often to the detriment of the God-Generals's missions. Still, she _had_ seemed off somehow lately, ever since that plane chase the other day.

_ She probably wants something,_ he thought, _but can't just come out and say it._

There was only one reason he could think of why that would be.

"I've got nothing better to do," he said out loud, shutting the text and standing up.

"Oh - would you like me to come help as well?" said Natalia, halfway to her feet.

Tear forced her smile the Princess's way. "That's all right. I thought it would be good for Sync to feel as though he's doing something useful."

"My, that's a fine idea. But... please do call if you need any help, all right?"

It didn't take a genius to read between the lines. Sync smirked faintly at Natalia. Then he followed Tear to the kitchen.

She was right about one thing; it _would_ be a good change of pace to do something productive. Self-improvement was important, but useless if he couldn't apply it. Feeling useless... made him itch. Cooking was at least a basic necessity, even if it was for the enemy. Better than ratting the Oracle Knights out.

When they arrived, Tear directed him to fill a pot with water, then retrieved two heads of lettuce, two large cucumbers, several tomatoes, and a pair of large onions. Sync's jaw set at the sight, but he obeyed without comment when directed to wash the vegetables. As he did, she retrieved a knife, a bowl and a cutting board from one of the cupboards, put the pot on to boil and added a little salt to the water, retrieved a dozen eggs from the cooler, and then turned to watch him.

"Was there a particular reason you asked me to join you?" Sync asked, keeping his eyes on his task. "And let's skip the whole 'I wanted you to feel useful' drivel. You and I both know that's not your real motivation."

"You don't waste any time, do you."

"No, and I wish you'd stop."

Tear sighed and glanced to one side. Sync eyed her pale reflection on the burnished steel wall.

"I'm sorry. You're right," she admitted. "There's something I... need to know."

"Is it about Van?"

She startled and stared at him. "How did you know?"

"You've been acting distant and distracted lately," he replied, dropping his eyes back to his task. "Usually you're more on the ball, so it seemed unlike you. Since you and your companions visited a Sephiroth lately, I had a hunch."

Tear was silent for a moment. He took that time to scrape off the last of the dirt on the lettuce, dry them off, set them to one side, and move on to the tomatoes.

"Because my companions and I... visited a Sephiroth," she repeated slowly.

Sync chuckled a little and said nothing. He was halfway through the tomatoes when he heard her start to separate the lettuce leaves.

"Has my brother... has Van been operating the passage rings himself?"

"I don't see the point in answering that question." Sync half-turned to meet her glare. "Not when you obviously already know it yourself."

Her hands stilled. "...So it _is_ true."

Sync flashed her a smirk. "Dawn Age technology's a marvel, huh? Even after all this time, it'll still react to the DNA signature of Yulia's descendants." He dried the tomatoes and moved on to the cucumbers. "Of course, there's some unpleasant side effects. I bet you already know about those, too."

A pause. Then: "I do."

"Then you don't really need to ask me anything, do you?" He shrugged. "All you're accomplishing right now is getting me to verify what you already figured out."

"You don't even think it's worth hiding, do you."

"Why would it be? The only one you're hiding it from is everyone else, after all. That's why you told Princess Natalia you didn't need any help, even though I could potentially grab a knife and overpower you - right?"

"...I suppose."

Sync glanced over his shoulder. She still looked distracted. The knife wasn't in her hand. If he moved closer, maybe while offering her the cucumbers, he could grab it.

As if reading his mind, she jerked her head up towards him and met his eyes. Her gaze dropped down to the knife, and she took it in hand and moved it to her other side, putting herself between it and him. Sync smiled faintly. He started drying the cucumbers.

"I admit," he said, "I'm curious why. Wouldn't it benefit you if Van's killing himself slowly? It'll increase your odds of defeating him if you ever get the chance to fight him."

_Not that you'll win, _he didn't add.

"I'm not sure the reason why would make sense to you," she murmured. "It doesn't make logical sense even to me."

Sync shrugged. "I don't know about that. Van can be pretty illogical depending on the circumstances. It wouldn't surprise me if you were a giant hypocrite, too."

"What? What do you mean?"

He set down the dried cucumbers and tilted his head back. "You already know that Van intends on killing everyone in the Outer Lands. Yet he keeps trying to avoid killing you and Guy, even though both of you directly oppose him." He narrowed his eyes at her. "For a man willing to kill anyone who stands against him, even children or the elderly, he's awfully sentimental." He uttered a faint laugh and turned to face her. "So I thought, wouldn't it be just _sweet _if the sister who's been trying to assassinate him was worried about his health?"

She sighed. "You've got a point. It _is_ hypocritical."

Sync sneered. "You don't even try to deny it."

"How can I? It's the truth." She paused, then faced him. Despite her outward calm, tension ran down her frame like a bowstring pulled taut. "If you know all that, you must know why he's willing to go to such lengths to destroy the Outer Lands."

Sync raised his eyebrows at her.

Tear studied him for a moment. "...But you aren't going to tell me even if I ask, are you."

He bared his teeth. "I knew you were smarter than the others."

She made a small, irritated noise, but let it drop. When the pot began to boil, she carefully added the eggs and, once the last was submerged, turned down the heat.

Sync watched for a moment. "What exactly are you preparing, anyway?"

"Egg salad."

"Ah. So that's why. Did you get cooking pointers from Legretta?"

She blinked at him. "No... Why?"

Sync considered blowing off the question, but he didn't see the point - not over what he considered genuinely unimportant information. "She likes eggs. That's all."

"Oh, of course. I should have realized." She set aside the lettuce, took the tomatoes and began to slice them up. "Have you two cooked together?"

"No. But she's in charge of approving the menu for the God-Generals, since she's the only one besides Van who cares about balanced nutrition."

Tear smiled faintly, shutting her eyes. "I can hear her lectures now. 'Chicken is low in calories and high in muscle-building protein, so if you must serve meat, use chicken.'"

"I'm surprised she told you to eat chicken at all," Sync replied, folding his hands behind his neck. "I figured she'd mold her impressionable student into a meat-hater like her."

"Someone who doesn't eat meat is called a vegetarian," she replied dryly. "Though actually, she's a pescetarian, as I recall..."

"That's not really the point."

"No, I suppose not." She paused, though her hands remained in motion. "What about you, Sync? I take it you like meat?"

"Not really. Not that much." He turned back to the sink and glowered at the onions. "I don't have any food I especially like or dislike."

"I see."

There was a moment of silence. Sync finally picked up the smelly bulbs and began to peel the outer layers off under running water, tilting the onions away from his face. Once the outermost layer of both bulbs was glossy smooth, he dried them off, left them for Tear to chop, and stepped back to give her plenty of space.

She gave him no further instructions, so he watched instead. She'd reached the cucumbers. She cut them thick, he noticed - like Van. He remembered the egg sandwich and its familiar flavor from the other day. It was something in the sauce, spread thin on the bread; whatever it was, Van used something like that, too. His lips thinned.

Before she started on the onions, she did something odd. Sync watched, then wondered, "What're you doing?"

"Wringing out a damp sponge."

"I can see that. _Why_?"

She set it down next to the cutting board and began to chop. "A slightly damp sponge will absorb the chemicals from the onions that irritate your eyes. It makes chopping them much easier."

Sync unfolded his arms. "What?"

"It's a small trick my brother taught me."

"I see." Dropping his volume, he muttered, "He never bothered teaching me that one."

Unfortunately, he wasn't quiet enough. Tear half-turned to stare at him. "Van taught you how to cook?"

For a moment, he kept his mouth shut. Then: "Just the basics. The rest I figured out on my own."

She stared a second longer. Then she resumed chopping. "So that's it."

"What's it?"

"Nothing. Never mind."

Sync narrowed his eyes at her. Then he snorted out a derisive laugh and bared his teeth in a humorless grin. "Let me guess. You didn't think your 'beloved' brother would bother teaching a reject like me how to survive? Or maybe it's the other way around. Maybe you're holding back some soppy story about how since he _did_ teach me, that meant he really _cared_."

She looked him dead in the eye and replied, "You and I both know that's not true."

Sync's grin died.

She returned to her task. "But I _did_ think it was strange. For Van, cooking has never been just about survival. At least, that's what he told me when he taught me."

Sync's lips curled.

"Did he teach anyone else in the God-Generals how to cook?"

He glared at her for a second. Then he shook off his thoughts with a physical shake of his head. "Asch and Arietta. Only Asch took to the lessons, though. Arietta never got the hang of what to do with pots or pans. Van gave up on her eventually."

"What about you? Do you enjoy cooking, or...?"

"No. What's there _to_ enjoy? All it is is a way of making fuel for your body."

"Hmm, I see. Well, you're not wrong, but..."

"You're about to say something stupid, aren't you?"

Tear chopped up the last of the onion and slid the pieces to one side with the flat of the knife. "I just don't agree with you that that's _all_ it is."

"It's all for someone like me."

Something that looked like sadness flickered across her expression. Before Sync could be sure of what he saw, she reached over and turned off the burner, then requested he fill a bowl with ice water, all business. It was something to do, so he obeyed. If she'd pitied him in that instant, she didn't mention anything about it. That was fine by him. He'd been getting sick of the conversation, anyway.

The now hard-boiled eggs went into the bowl of water. After they'd cooled, they peeled them together in silence. The shells came off with surprising ease. Another one of Van's tricks, Sync suspected. Once they were done, Tear prepared to slice up the eggs and directed him to set the table. He gathered up the plates and utensils all at once so he wouldn't have to come back. Tear kept a close eye on the number of wooden forks and knives he gathered, and let him go when she was satisfied he hadn't palmed any.

While he was setting the table, Guy and Princess Natalia showed up with an offer to help on their lips. Their true intentions were transparent to Sync, and when Tear asked him if he wanted to stay and eat with everyone else, he gave her a clear no. Despite Natalia's offense, Tear took it in stride. In the end, she had Guy stay to help and Natalia escort him back to his cell.

_So now that she has what she wants, she tosses me aside,_ Sync thought, tuning out the Princess's lecturing as they walked back. _Like brother, like sister._

Still, it was what he'd expected. Once he was locked in his cell and Natalia had gone, he started a series of stretches while he waited for his meal.

* * *

"He's the same as usual, huh?" Guy remarked once Sync and Natalia had gone, shaking his head. "I'm just glad Ion and Luke weren't here. They'd be crushed if they heard him say he'd rather gargle broken glass than eat with the rest of us."

"Yes. It's no wonder Natalia got angry," Tear replied, sweeping the egg slices into a large bowl. "But that might be partly my fault."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

So Tear told him about the conversation she'd had with Sync, leaving out the parts about Van having the same illness as her. Guy listened as he set out glasses and poured drinks.

"So that's why, huh... He really hates Van, doesn't he." Guy sobered. "Or maybe he just hates us for caring about him."

"Maybe so," Tear murmured, expression clouded. "If he did, I couldn't blame him."

"Yeah..." Guy lowered his eyes. "From his perspective, Van cares more about people actively opposing him than his own direct subordinate. It's no wonder he assumes it's because he's a replica."

"I don't understand why Van looks down on replicas," Tear said as she retrieved various spices and a small carton of cream. "Not just Sync, but his attitude towards Luke is so hostile, and Fon Master Ion seems to be just a tool to him, too... Replicas are the key to his plan to destroy the Score, so why hold them in contempt?"

"There's a lot of things Van does that're hard to understand," Guy agreed. "I wish I could get inside his head. Then maybe I could finally get him to stop all this."

Tear pursed her lips, mixing egg slices and cream and spices together. "I... I'm honestly frightened of what's inside his head." Her hands stilled on the edge of a smaller bowl. "Maybe that's why I decided I had to kill him."

"Tear..."

She shook her head. "No, never mind. I'm sorry for bringing this up." She started mixing again. "Let's focus on finishing up dinner. I need to bring Sync his share, too."

"Say, speaking of which, I wonder -"

* * *

The steel outer door opened. Sync looked up, startled. Tear had arrived sooner than he'd expected. She carried a tray over one arm and a stool under it, and unlocked the inner bars with her free hand. It occurred to Sync that he could rush her, but he didn't bother; he just watched her as she brought the tray over to the table and set it down.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting," she said, putting down the stool next. "Thank you for your help earlier."

Sync rolled onto the balls of his feet and stood up. "You didn't have to come in," he pointed out, taking a seat nonetheless. The tray had exactly what he expected: a plate of egg salad, a wooden fork and knife, and a cup of water. What he didn't expect was that there were double of everything. He eyed the assortment as she set places for each of them. "Don't you have your own companions to eat with?"

"If you want me to leave, I can do that."

Sync picked up his fork. "Do whatever you want."

She sat down and began to eat. Sync steeled himself and took a bite of his own. After chewing for a moment, he paused and shot his plate an odd look. He swallowed and took another experimental bite. It was good. Too good, in fact.

"Wasn't this supposed to have onions?" he wondered, eyebrows furrowed.

"I left them out of your portion."

He stared at her. "Why?"

She stared back and said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "Why? Because you don't like them." She paused. "I'm sorry, did I misunderstand? I can trade plates with you if you prefer."

He kept staring at her, quiet shock rippling through his body. He _didn't_ like onions. That was true. But -

"I thought I told you I don't have any food I dislike."

"You did. But if it were me, I'd say the same thing too..." Her cheeks turned a hair pink. "...even though I dislike carrots."

Sync kept staring. He set his fork down. "I don't understand."

"W-well, they're rather bitter. I know it's childish, but -"

"No, not that. How did you know? And why did you bother?"

"Oh." She settled. "Your behavior seemed odd when you were chopping the onions, so I had a hunch. As for why..."

* * *

"- I wonder if Sync doesn't like onions," Guy mused, folding his arms. "Luke always acts grossed out when _he_ has to handle the ingredients he doesn't like, and Sync strikes me as the type to not admit to his likes and dislikes."

"You think so, too?"

Guy glanced over at Tear. It was then that he noticed that she'd separated a portion of the egg salad from the rest, and that she was only just adding onions to the main mixture. His lips slid into a crooked smile.

"Heh... Luke's gotten you used to dealing with picky eaters, huh?"

Tear smiled back wryly. "I suppose he has. But cooking for others, by its nature, means having consideration for them." Her expression softened. "That's the heart of what Van taught me, though I wonder if we apply it differently now. Whether Sync appreciates it or not..."

* * *

"...I suppose ultimately, I just wanted to."

He leaned back in his seat, still staring. "I've never told anyone that I don't like onions," he murmured.

When he said nothing further, Tear furrowed her brows. "Did I do something wrong?"

"...No." Sync finally lowered his gaze to his plate and picked up his fork again. Just before he brought the next mouthful to his lips, he mumbled, "Th-thank you."

She blinked rapidly. After a couple of seconds, she recovered her composure and smiled warmly, tilting her head.

"You're welcome," she replied.

They spent the rest of the meal in comfortable silence.

* * *

When Tear had left with the dishes and the stool, Sync laid down on his cot, folded his arms under his head, and stared at the ceiling. The flavor of egg salad still lingered on his tongue. Mulling it over, it was a little different from Van's cooking's flavor after all, but he lacked the vocabulary to pinpoint how.

_Is this what people mean by 'cooking with love'?_ he wondered. Promptly, he palmed his face and slid his hand down. _...Eugh. What a lame thing to think._

But he did think he understood the concept a little better. Noticing someone didn't like an ingredient and preemptively removing it from a dish... It was a bizarre level of consideration.

_It's not the first time,_ he realized. _That time with the towel, too. She didn't say a word, but she still brought me what I needed. And just last week, she told off Anise when I was yelling at her to get off._ He frowned. _She's actually paying attention to me._

He sat up, swung one leg off the edge of the cot, and turned his frown on the cell door. _Is she trying to manipulate me? Wear me down until I buy her kindness act and start talking?_

It would have made sense, but when Sync reviewed what he knew about Tear, it rang false. Van, Legretta, Cantabile and Mohs had all made reports about her character. Van, ever the doting brother, had described her as too earnest and straightforward, that he was reluctant to let someone as kind as her become a soldier. Legretta had praised her battle sense and her eagerness to learn, but observed that she was honest to the point of having trouble getting along with others. Cantabile had been the harshest, calling her naïve and soft-hearted, but her final remarks were also the most on-point: Tear spoke and acted in accordance to her beliefs, and now that she had the resolve to follow them through, she wouldn't betray them. Mohs had concurred and praised her as serious, dedicated, strong-willed and discreet, but added that while she worked well in the Intelligence Division, she was better at concealing than outright deception.

That was consistent with what Sync had observed so far. She didn't tolerate his antagonism, but she showed him no contempt either, so she didn't look down on him. She couldn't reconcile her love for her brother and her need to kill him to "save" the world, yet when Sync criticized her, she accepted it without making excuses, so she wasn't self-deluded. There wasn't any gain for her to take his side over Anise's when Anise hugged him, but she did - and even told Anise she was in the wrong - so she did adhere to what she thought was right. And finally, while respect for Ion might prompt her to go out of her way for Sync, what she did went beyond even that, so she wasn't paying lip service out of a sense of duty.

Then... she must sincerely place him on the same level as a real person.

Sync clutched his chest. How long would he have to pore over the dictionary before he found the words that described how that made him feel?


	10. Days

The sunlight warmed his skin, the brisk sea wind ruffled his hair, and together they rejuvenated him. Sync stretched as he basked in them, grass tickling his sandal feet, then bent an arm to protect his eyes from the brightness. The tiny port window in his cell let in a little outside light and that was it; he hadn't truly been outside since before the Sheridan mission.

"It's been a while, huh?" Guy said, good-natured, at his back.

Sync didn't particularly want to acknowledge him, but he slid a look his way anyway. Princess Natalia and the girl they called Noelle, apparently the pilot of the Albiore, had come out with him. Noelle looked nervous, while Natalia scanned the expanse of the island they'd landed on with a hand shading her eyes. It'd been a surprise to Sync when Guy had told him they were looking for something on this remote island, and did he want a chance to stretch his legs?

Despite being suspicious, Sync had said yes. His intent had been to look for a chance to escape. Given that the horizon was solid blue in every direction, that didn't look feasible - probably the reason why he'd been let off the Albiore at all - but the chance to get outside and really stretch his legs was still worth it.

"Where's everyone else, anyway?" he asked.

"They're here and there," Guy replied. "We're looking for some rare trading materials for custom armor and weapons, and we decided to split into three groups. We're the last one, so once we're done here, we'll take off to pick up the others."

"There!" Natalia declared, pointing triumphantly towards a barely-visible point on the sandy end of the island. "That spot looks promising!" She looked expectantly towards Guy and Sync. "Shall we be on our way?"

"Sure," said Guy.

"Why do I have to go with you?" said Sync.

Natalia set her hands on her hips. "Would you like to return to your cell?"

Sync frowned and glanced upwards. "...Fine."

"Before we go, though -" Natalia turned to Noelle. "Noelle, are you certain you wouldn't like to come with us? Guy and I will handle any monsters, and you must be getting antsy after flying us all over."

"Oh, I'm fine. Thank you for worrying about me," Noelle reassured her, holding a hand out palm-flat. "I'd feel more comfortable if I stuck close to the Albiore, though. Good luck on your search, Natalia and Guy!"

She didn't quite look at Sync. He side-eyed her but said nothing, and soon the rest of them were on their way. He longed to break into a sprint - not even to attempt an escape, but to just _run _\- but with Guy and Natalia armed and on either side of him, Sync thought that wouldn't be a smart move for two reasons. Demoralizing the group hadn't worked, so as long as there wasn't a good opportunity to escape or kill them or whatever was convenient, he needed to pretend to behave until they slipped up and gave him one. Letting him off the Albiore was a step in the right direction, so he couldn't afford to mess it up. The other reason was that he had a gut feeling Guy was trying to give him enough rope to hang himself with. Try to make a break for it, and he'd have the excuse he needed to take revenge on him.

"Oh, yeah," Guy said when they were partway there. "How'd you like that salad the other day, Sync?" When Sync gave him a questioning look, he added, "You know, the one Tear brought you."

"It was fine," he replied, furrowing his brows. "Why?"

He shrugged and smiled. "She went out of her way to leave out the onions, so I wondered if you'd noticed."

Sync slowed a step. Then he kept moving. "So she told you about that, huh."

"Haha. Not exactly! Remember, I helped her finish up dinner that day."

"Oh, I remember that too," Natalia mused. She frowned at Sync. "You were utterly ungracious. I can't believe how rude you can be!"

"Yeah, I didn't expect her to stay to eat with me," Sync agreed, choosing like usual to ignore her indignation. "It was weird."

"Believe it or not, Tear's been sticking up for you a lot lately," Guy said. "She's the one who suggested we let you walk freely, as long as you've got an escort."

"Really?" Sync uttered, taken aback. He thought about it for a moment, then repeated, "_Really_?"

Guy laughed. "I can understand why you wouldn't believe it, considering she'd just knocked you out with a fonic hymn. But she was pretty plain about it."

"Yes. We were all surprised," Natalia said. "It's just like Tear not to have told you that herself."

"She's not the type to toot her own horn," Guy agreed, nodding.

Sync was silent. _Why does she look out for me? What makes her think of replicas as worthwhile?_ The questions had been on his mind ever since he realized that she actually gave a damn about him. Guy and Natalia might know, and the timing was right, but... asking that directly would make him seem too vulnerable. He resolved to spin it out of Ion or Luke next chance he had. If it really was about replicas, then they ought to have similar experiences.

"Anyway," he said, stepping over a piece of driftwood, "it was just a salad. Why's it matter?"

Guy blinked at him. "Oh. Really? I wonder if we were wrong, then. Tear and I both thought you might not like onions."

Sync's eyes widened slightly.

"My, is that so?" Natalia wondered. "Why is that?"

Sync swallowed a sigh. "That's not important." He eyed Guy. "I'm more interested in why you'd care in the first place."

Guy stared at him. "Why wouldn't I care? We're all pitching in to try to look after you."

That was patently untrue - Sync hadn't seen the Necromancer since the last interrogation - and he let how unimpressed he was with the claim show on his face. When Guy and Natalia both looked discomfited, Sync counted it as a personal victory.

"We're not exactly friendly," he said.

"True, but... do you think I hold a grudge against you or something because of the curse slot seal?" Guy wondered. "You don't have to worry about that. I'm not happy it happened, but nobody got hurt. No harm, no foul."

Sync stumbled a half-step. This time, he stopped. Guy and Natalia stopped with him.

"Van gave me a completely different impression of you," he said at length. "Didn't you pretend to be Duke Fabre's loyal servant for years just to get a chance to take revenge on him?"

Guy's smile faded. "...No offense, Sync, but your curse slot seal doesn't stack up at all to Duke Fabre and his soldiers murdering my family."

Sync frowned. "So you aren't at all bothered that I took control of your mind and body?"

"Sync, could you please stop baiting him?" Natalia scolded him. "Honestly, you make it extremely difficult to be patient with you."

The creak of thin ice sounded in Sync's mind. He kept frowning, but he also kept his mouth shut. Guy rubbed the back of his head, then rested a hand on his sword belt.

"It's all right, Natalia," he said, then looked to Sync. "I understand why you'd be cautious around me. What Van told you about me wasn't exactly wrong. I don't have any more desire for revenge, though, and I don't hold a grudge against you, either." He gave him a lopsided smile. "So let's just enjoy the sun and sea air while we've got the time to, all right?"

_Are you serious?_ Sync wondered. Still, he saw no merit in pushing the issue with Natalia eager to shut it down, so he nodded once and started walking with them again.

They soon reached the spot that Natalia had indicated. She had a good eye; the ocean had washed a lot of items onto the sand, though all of it looked like junk to Sync. Apparently his wardens disagreed, because between the two of them, they picked up several shells and stones. Sync didn't join them and neither of them asked him to. That was fine. He didn't want to be helpful... but it made him feel uncomfortable to do nothing while others worked.

To distract himself, he watched the both of them, particularly Princess Natalia. He'd largely blown her off up until now, but she gathered that junk with diligence and even enthusiasm. He hadn't thought someone raised as a princess would enjoy getting her hands dirty-but then, he reflected, she was a worldly kind of princess. More to the point, she wasn't really a princess at all, was she? That determination to take action herself and accept responsibility for it was like...

He paused mentally.

"...Hey, Princess Natalia."

"Hm?" She looked up at him. "What is it, Sync? And please, don't feel like you need to address me as you would royalty. I'm not traveling as the princess."

"About that," he said. "There was something I wanted to ask you."

Her shoulders tensed. Guy frowned up at him too. Sync almost smiled at the blatant lack of trust.

"I was wondering," he continued, "would you ever want to meet your real parents?"

She relaxed. "Oh. Is that all? Goodness, I thought you were about to say something rude."

_The odds of that _are_ pretty good,_ he admitted to himself. "Well?"

She settled back on her heels and rested a hand on her chin. "...I don't really know. I've always thought of Father as... well, my father. And I never really knew Mother - she died when I was so young. I've already gotten used to not having a mother in my life." Natalia dropped her hand to her chest. "If they are still alive, though... and they were willing, and there's time once our journey is at an end... I think... I would at least like to meet them." She smiled. "To thank them for giving me life."

"That sounds nice," Guy said, smiling back at her. "I'm sure they'd be proud of you, Natalia."

Sync sneered. "...How sentimental."

Natalia frowned icily. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"Yes, there is. You don't know who they are or even what they're like. As far as you know, your parents could be cutthroat criminals."

Natalia was on her feet in an instant. "I _beg_ your pardon?"

It wasn't wise, but Sync still flashed her a smirk. "You don't need to beg, Princess."

"I wouldn't ever beg you for anything!" Natalia shouted. "How dare you!"

"You know, you've got a real talent for making people mad," Guy remarked, setting down what he'd collected and getting to his feet. "C'mon, Natalia, calm down. Sync's just trying to get under your skin."

"I wasn't _just_ trying to get under her skin," Sync said.

"...So you admit you were trying to do that, too...?"

Natalia took a deep breath. "You're right, Guy. I was almost let him bait me this time." She glared at Sync. "As for _you_-my birth parents may not have raised me, but they still birthed and sired me. I will not tolerate rudeness against them. Do you understand?"

Sync chuckled, smirk scything up his cheeks.

"_What_ is so funny?"

"Oh - I shouldn't laugh, huh," he said, forcing the smirk most of the way off. "Not to your face, anyway."

"Sync, can you dial it back some?" Guy said. "Sheesh. If this is how you're going to act, I should've left you on the Albiore."

Sync's smirk died completely. He turned to Natalia. "...Just so you know, I was asking seriously."

"My, his attitude certainly changed." She folded her arms, dripping a lack of amusement. "Why did you want to know that, anyway?"

"Because I don't have any parents," he replied, resting one hand on his hip. "Just creators. Even the man who practically raised me after I joined the God-Generals only raised me because he was ordered to. Meanwhile, you have two sets. I can't help but be curious."

Guy and Natalia both sobered in an instant.

"Oh... I see." Natalia unfolded her arms. "I'm sorry. I'm still not pleased with you, but I must apologize. I never stopped to consider your feelings." She frowned. "Still, you really must choose your words more tactfully. You were very rude."

_Don't care,_ Sync thought. Aloud, he said, "I'll be more careful."

"Wow, that was surprisingly obedient of you," Guy said, eyes widening. "You really do want to know, don't you?"

Sync glanced at him but said nothing.

Natalia's frown persisted. Then she sighed and held a hand to her chin. "I suppose you did have a point earlier," she admitted. "I really don't know what kind of people my biological mother and father were. I suppose Nanny would know, as she's my grandmother..." She lowered her hand. "Perhaps I could ask her, once there's time."

"What would you do if you didn't like the answer you got?"

"I don't know. How can I know, before I have it?" Natalia regarded Sync. "But even if I didn't, Father has still accepted me as his daughter, and I have many wonderful friends with me who support and accept me as well." She and Guy shared a smile. "Even more than that, Luke has taught me... no matter the circumstances of my birth... I am still me. I can live on with my head held high."

Sync eyed her for a moment, then glanced away. "I see."

Natalia waited a moment in case he had anything else to say. When he remained silent, she asked, "May I ask you something in return?"

"What is it?"

"You mentioned something about the man who raised you... Were you referring to Van?"

"...No. I was actually talking about Largo."

"Largo? Really?" Guy uttered. "Well, I guess you _did_ say he was ordered to..."

Natalia blinked wide in curiosity. "Then does Largo know your true identity?"

"No. Van made a point of keeping that to himself."

"Was he kind to you?"

"...What do you think?"

"I don't know. I know barely anything about the man."

Sync folded his arms and considered a point somewhere in the cirrus clouds. "He wasn't cruel. Thinking on it, I guess he was pretty nice compared to everyone else in my life. That's probably not the same as what you're asking, though." He looked back at his wardens. "Arietta and I were brought onto the God-Generals at the same time, and Van ordered Largo to watch after us. Make sure we learned the ropes, take care of continuing our training, that kind of thing. But it's not like we were friendly. Not like how you people would describe it. If I had to sum up our relationship in a word, I'd say it was... professional."

"Professional... I can see that," Guy remarked, holding his chin in thought. "Largo strikes me as the kind of guy who'd take any task he was given seriously. That couldn't have been easy for you, though." He lowered his hand, looking gloomy. "Kids need affection. Even if he wasn't cruel to you, coldness can leave its own kind of scars."

Sync's mouth twisted. "I managed."

"But why Largo?" Natalia wondered. "I must say, I have difficulty picturing him taking care of children."

Sync's mouth twisted again, this time into a sardonic smile that accompanied a puff of a laugh. "He used to have a child, actually."

"My!" she uttered, holding a hand over her mouth. "Really? I never would have imagined!"

Sync laughed again, louder this time. "Not that it matters," he continued. "It was a long time ago."

Natalia sobered. "Does that mean his child has... passed away?"

Sync glanced at her but said nothing.

"The world's certainly seen its share of turmoil. It'd make sense," Guy mused. "Plus, if that's true, it'd explain why an original like him is going along with Van's replica plan."

"How sad..." She clasped her hands over her chest. "It must be a terrible feeling to outlive your child." Her expression steeled. "But even so, that doesn't excuse what he's doing now. If that child were alive now, what would they say about his cooperation with the destruction of the Outer Lands?"

Sync watched her. "...Who can say?"

"...That's true. It's impossible to know now."

"Are you still going to fight him?"

They both stared at him, startled.

"What?" Natalia uttered. "Why would I not? No matter how sad a past he may have, so long as he cooperates with Dorian General Grants, he must be stopped."

"No matter what?"

"Of course." She tilted her head. "Why?"

Sync held her gaze for a moment, then glanced away.

Natalia blinked, then inhaled a sharp breath. "Oh... Of course. How insensitive of me. You must be concerned for his well-being."

"Not really. He's a soldier, same as me. It's his job to fight - to the death, if need be. If he gets killed, that just means he wasn't strong enough."

"Is that really how you think?" Guy said. "If that's all he is to you, then why did you ask what you did?"

Sync didn't respond, still regarding the sea.

"Sync... Are you really not concerned at all for him?" Natalia pressed.

"If I were, would that matter? Van is Tear's brother. Does that mean you won't fight and kill him if you get the opportunity?"

"That... is true. Yes, you are right," she murmured. "I wish there were some way we could resolve our differences without violence."

"You should get rid of that softness right now," Sync said, cutting the air with a sharp glance back at her. "If you show that kind of hesitation in front of Largo, he'll cut you down where you stand."

"Wow. I _really_ didn't expect you to say that," Guy uttered. His surprise melted into a grin. "Heh, it almost sounds like you're worried about _us_ now."

Sync frowned. "It's not like that." _Definitely not like that,_ he didn't add. "Only the one who survives has the right to change the world. Largo knows that well."

Natalia still looked taken aback. "Sync... Are you encouraging me?" Her expression gentled. "Thank you. I'm surprised; you're kinder than I thought you were."

"...Not really."

But Natalia still smiled at him. "I'm glad that we had this talk. Thank you for opening up to us, even though we've never gotten along before now."

Guy clapped his shoulder and grinned. "At this rate, it'll be like we never fought in the first place, huh?"

Sync made a face and picked his hand off. "...Don't touch me."

To his befuddlement, both Natalia and Guy laughed. What was _with_ these people?

"Well, we better finish up and head back," Guy said, kneeling back down to the sand. "I think we've already picked out the best of what's here, Natalia. We don't want to keep Luke and the others waiting."

"Yes, that's true." And then Natalia turned to Sync and thrust out an item bag. "Here, hold this. You may as well make yourself useful while you're here."

"Okay," Sync uttered, too startled to refuse. By the time he regained his senses a second later, they'd already started scooping the items in. While he could have just dropped the bag at their feet, he reasoned it would be stupid to waste the good will he'd somehow acquired. When it was full, he gave it back to her without a fuss.

Nonetheless, on the way back, Sync considered her from behind as she chatted gaily with Guy.

_You really are sentimental, Princess Natalia. You must get that from your father._

It didn't take long for them to reach the Albiore. Noelle waved to them in greeting and jogged up the boarding stairs ahead of them. Natalia followed, but before Guy could too, Sync tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention.

When he had it, he murmured, "Can I ask you something? Privately."

To his surprise, Guy stopped and faced him. "What is it?"

Sync hesitated. He'd anticipated that they'd talk back in his cell, not right out in the open. In the moment he was silent, Natalia paused and turned back towards them.

"Is everything all right?" she asked.

"Yeah. We'll be up in a minute," Guy called. "You and Noelle go on ahead."

Natalia nodded, then ascended the rest of the way, item bag in hand. Sync watched, and once he was sure they were gone, he looked back at Guy. Well... He didn't mind an excuse to stay outside for longer, at least.

"I wanted to ask you again," he said. "Are you _really_ not out for revenge?"

Guy smiled ruefully. "No, I'm not."

"We're alone. You don't have to keep up appearances."

He laughed. "Man, you really don't believe me, do you?" He shook his head. "I'm not. I don't know what else I can say to convince you."

Sync frowned. "Against anyone?"

"What? This wasn't just about -?" He paused. "Against anyone."

He folded his arms. "I don't understand. Don't you hate the people who hurt you? If you were still biding your time, that'd be one thing. I get that. But how can you just let it go?"

"Sync..." he murmured, eyes widening. After a moment of silence, Guy rubbed the back of his head. "It's not like I stopped hating them," he replied. "Everything and everyone I loved was stolen from me. That's not something you can just forget." He lowered his hand and gave Sync a somber look. "In your case, I guess you were robbed of your right to be treated like a human being."

"We're not talking about me," Sync said coolly.

Guy's mouth tightened at the corners. "Right. Of course. Sorry." He folded his arms and rested a hand on his chin in thought. "Let's see... How to put this..." He lowered his hand and looked down at Sync. "The thing about revenge is that it consumes you. You stop having any other goals or dreams. You can't even picture what you'll do after you achieve it. It's an end in and of itself, and nothing else matters. You follow me so far?"

Sync nodded. He understood that well. He'd never had any other goals or dreams _but_ revenge against the Score and those who lived and died by it.

"But people can't live like that," Guy continued. "If you get shot with an arrow, leaving it in will keep you from bleeding out, but eventually you have to remove it or you'll never heal."

Sync ticked an eyebrow up. "You lost me."

"If the people who hurt me were the arrow, then my desire for revenge was the act of keeping the arrow in," he explained. "Doing that kept me going, but at the expense of staying wounded for years. Does that make more sense?"

It did, sort of. Sync nodded slowly. "I think I get what you're saying. Going by that metaphor, though, you might end up hurting yourself worse than you were before if you remove that arrow. It's a messy business if you screw it up."

"Exactly. Putting something behind you might _look_ easy, but it's anything but, especially if that pain is all you have. Letting go is an act of trust."

"Trust?"

"Right. When hate is what drives you, you have to trust that there's something better out there for you if you don't give in to it. What that is is different for everyone, but for me, it was a friend."

"Luke," Sync guessed.

Guy chuckled. "Got it in one. You're pretty perceptive."

"...tch."

"What's that face for?"

"How does that work?" Sync asked, ignoring the question. "The two of you protect each other, right? That's what a 'friend' is. I know that much, at least. How does what you're talking about play into that?"

Guy scratched his head. "Well... yeah, but... protecting someone isn't just about keeping them from physical harm." He gestured expansively with one hand. "It's also about - you know, doing things to make them happy. Being there for them when they're sad. Looking out for them and helping them out." He crooked a half-smile. "Anyone can do that. You don't need to wield a sword or use artes to protect someone's heart."

Sync stared.

"With me and Luke," he continued, "I made a bet with myself about him, and so far, he's winning. That's how I was able to start putting my past behind me."

_You really do need him._

It was nothing he didn't already know. Still, Sync glanced away. "I see," he muttered. "So that's why you resisted so much. I thought it was strange."

"That'd be it, yeah. Does that answer your question?"

"And then some."

Sync headed up into the Albiore. Guy followed him. Even though it was his own fault for asking in the first place, irritation prickled at Sync. Good for Guy and his stupid friends, but he just couldn't relate. He didn't have anyone like that. He needed no one, and no one needed him. He protected no one, and no one protected him. Because of that, he didn't belong anywhere in this world; he never had. So he'd keep on living for his hatred. That was all he had.

_Letting go is an act of trust._

For some reason, his mind flickered with thoughts of Tear.


	11. Chill

"Hey, Ion! Check it out!"

Ion looked up from his quiet conversation with Natalia to see Anise at the doorway of the passenger room, holding out some small, rectangular object like it was a battle trophy. Ion failed to recognize it at first and blinked in confusion, but Natalia clapped her hands once and smiled broadly.

"Oh! You found the trump deck, Anise! I thought we'd lost that!"

"Yup! It turned out Mieu got it stuck under one of the seats in the cockpit. I don't even wanna know how he managed that." Anise beamed. "So we should play a game of cards while we're heading to Daath! It'll be a great way to take our minds off things!"

"What things?" Ion wondered.

"Oh, uh, you know, just things, haha!"

Her sudden nervousness puzzled him, but before he could think on it, Natalia stood.

"That sounds like fun. It _is_ going to be a while longer until we arrive," she said. "Shall we head to the kitchen? There's a table we can play at there."

They agreed, Ion mildly nonplussed but nonetheless looking forward to whatever game they were about to play. When they reached the kitchen, though, they found Tear and Sync already seated at the table in question, a pair of thick books cracked open between them along with two pens and a notebook opened to a page half-filled with crisp handwriting. Based on what Ion could see of the illustrations on the pages, they looked to be about world history. Their conversation sounded to be about the same before they paused to look up at them.

"Pardon us. We were just looking for a table," Ion explained.

"We're in the middle of studying," Sync said, tone neutral. Ion wondered if that was meant to be a rejection.

"Oh, is Tear helping you?" Natalia asked, tilting her head. If it _was_ a rejection, she hadn't noticed.

"We're helping each other," Tear replied. "If you need to use the kitchen, we can move." She caught Sync's frown and added to him, "We can study anywhere."

"Oh, you guys don't have to leave!" Anise said. "We were gonna play a game of cards. You wanna join us?"

"What part of 'we're studying' doesn't get through to you?" Sync said, leaning his head on one hand.

_Oh, so it _was_ a rejection,_ Ion thought, disappointed. Aloud, he said, "We shouldn't bother them, Anise."

"It's no bother, Fon Mas - Ion," Tear reassured him, getting up. "Sync, let's go."

"I guess I should've figured someone would come here eventually," he said, getting up with her.

"Liar," Anise said.

Sync shot her a frown. "Excuse you?"

But she just grinned back at him. "I said, we're going to be playing a game called Liar! We didn't get to that one the last time we played cards. It's all about bluffing your way to a win! It's right up your alley, isn't it?"

Ion was pleasantly surprised to see Sync pause, then start to laugh. "You're really trying to push my buttons, huh?"

"As long as it works!" Anise trilled.

Sync glanced at Tear. "What do you think?"

"We're at a good break point anyway. It wouldn't hurt to play a round before we move, if that's what you want to do," she replied.

He thought about it, then sat back down and shut the notebook. "All right, I'll bite."

Anise pumped a fist and cheered, "Victory!"

Tear sat back down to Sync's right, shut the textbooks after making a note of their page and set them, the notebook, and the pens to one side. Ion and Anise sat opposite them, and Natalia seated herself at the end of the table between Anise and Sync.

"You two seem to be getting along well lately," Ion observed, smiling at Sync and Tear as Anise shuffled the deck.

"We were just studying," Sync replied flatly.

"It seemed like a good opportunity for us," Tear added, unruffled. "I needed to catch up on my studies anyway."

Sync settled and shrugged. "Right. I was bored so I figured I'd try something different, and she seems smart."

"Oh - does that mean that you asked her?"

He frowned and said nothing.

"So you'll ask _her_ to study, but I practically have to twist your arm to get you to play a little?" Anise asked with a wry smirk as she dealt the cards one by one around the table. "What makes Tear so special, hmmmm?"

"Her ability to keep her mouth shut," Sync retorted.

Tear sighed and said nothing, which probably proved his point.

"My, he seemed cooperative when Guy and I were gathering trade materials the day before yesterday," Natalia said. "Eventually, anyway. Maybe it's just you, Anise."

"Wait, seriously?!"

Sync snickered. "How's it feel, being the unpopular one?"

Anise shot him a dirty look as she dealt out the last of the cards. "It feels like some smug jerk smugging it up because he thinks he's _soooo_ clever!"

"Wow, I wonder what that's like?" he replied, grinning, as he and the others picked up their hands.

Ion giggled, but in response, Sync's smile blew out like a filament. It happened so quickly that it made Ion feel awkward and self-conscious. After that, though, Anise began to explain the rules, so the moment passed without remark.

The rules were simultaneously simple and confusing. Whoever had the ace of spades (Anise, as it turned out, had set it aside) placed it face-down in the center. The next person going clockwise (which Anise made herself) was supposed to set down any twos in their hand, and the one after (which was him) any threes, and so on until they cycled back to aces.

"But I don't have any threes, Anise," Ion said.

"Iooooon, you're not supposed to _say_ that!" Anise protested. "If you don't have those cards, you just put down whatever."

"But I thought we had to go in order?"

"Right, so you lie!"

Ion stared at Anise like she'd started speaking in tongues. It took a little while for him to understand that he was supposed to claim whatever numbers of threes, or whichever card he was supposed to put down on his turn, whether he actually had them or not. If he lied, and someone called him on his lie, then he had to take the pile. If no one called him on his lie before the next person put down and declared their cards, then he was safe. And if someone called him a liar and it turned out he'd declared his cards truthfully, the accuser had to take the pile instead.

"Oh, okay," he said at the end, then selected a card and set it face-down. "Um, one three."

"Liar."

Ion lifted his head to meet Sync's stare, which was as pointed as a knife at his throat.

"Wow, _you_ didn't waste any time jumping on that," Anise said at the same time.

He flashed her a grim smile. "Just testing the rules. Something wrong with that?"

"Anise, it's fine," Ion cut in before a non-playful argument could follow; he knew Anise was less flexible when it came to him, and he didn't want any bad feelings. He took the pile, all of three cards, and smiled. "He's right. It's the rules."

"Well... okay," she said reluctantly. "If you say so, Ion. Anyway, Tear, it's your turn."

The first round went smoothly enough. But when it back back to Ion's turn...

"Liar," said Sync.

Ion flinched and took the pile again. Another round passed, and while Tear, Sync, and possibly Anise all bluffed on what they set down - Ion knew because he had over a fourth of the deck in his hand at this point - he couldn't bring himself to accuse them of anything. Fortunately, Anise did it for him when it was Sync's turn, though a second later Ion wondered why he thought of that as fortunate. On his turn, he set down all three kings he had in his hand, but hesitated as he declared them to glance up at Sync.

"You better not call Ion a liar again," Anise growled at him.

He showed her his teeth. "Why would I? He wasn't lying. _That_ time."

_How does he know?_ Ion wondered. _Am I that easy to read?_

"Anise, he's just playing the game," Tear said. She flicked her eyes from her cards over to Sync. "Maybe we should take it a little less seriously."

Sync caught her eye and frowned, which slid into a smirk when he looked at Anise. "Yeah, Anise, don't take it so seriously."

Anise made a face at him. "She was talking to you, Smartass!"

"I didn't hear my name, _Anise_!"

"What, you aren't going to call me Buzz anymore?"

"Why would I? I only did that to annoy the idiot replica."

Ion glanced at Anise. His stomach churned a little at the disappointment on her face, and he wasn't sure why. He opened his mouth to ask them to please stop fighting but hesitated. Tear was more decisive and pinned a glare onto Sync.

"Don't call Luke an idiot," she said sternly, "especially when he's not here to defend himself."

Sync met her glare with a neutral look. Then he sighed and shut his eyes. "...Fine."

Ion looked back and forth between him and Tear. Despite the tension in the moment, they'd both already relaxed. He smiled to see it, but the uneasiness in the pit of his stomach hadn't quite gone away.

"Cheer up, Sync," Anise said with a shrug. "Luke basically is an idiot."

Natalia frowned. "Anise, you're completely undermining Tear's point."

"Don't worry, I heard her loud and clear," Sync said before glancing at Tear. "It's just who you are."

Tear blinked at him in confusion, but took it in stride. "Let's continue the game, in that case. Whose turn was it again?"

"It was yours, actually," said Natalia.

"Oh! Yes, of course."

Ion breathed a sigh of relief as Tear looked over her hand. Rallying himself, he braved a smile over at his fellow replica. "So Sync, you and Tear were studying history, right? What part of it were you talking about?"

Sync neither returned his smile nor answered.

"We were discussing the territory wars that followed the raising of the Outer Lands and how they affected the current political map," Tear said, setting down a card. "One ace."

"So in other words, the formation of Kimlasca-Lanvaldear and the Malkuth Empire as we know them?" Natalia asked. "I have quite a bit of knowledge on the subject! Both of you, please feel free to ask me what you like."

Sync eyed her and shook his head. "Thanks for the offer, Princess, but we were studying it from a Daathic perspective. The history of Auldrant's countries is the history of how the Order of Lorelei's Watchers have manipulated them into following the Score."

"Manipulated?!" Natalia blustered.

"Wow, because that's not cynical or anything," Anise remarked.

"It's uncomfortable to think about, but that's why I thought it was important to study," Tear said. "This perspective is essentially Van's perspective. If I better understand it, it might give me helpful insight."

"And history is my weak point," Sync added. "I've been too busy to study it beyond the lessons Van gave me, so I figured I'd fix that now that I have the time."

"Lessons from the Commandant? I bet he was all kinds of biased," Anise said.

"Oh, he's biased as hell. That doesn't make him wrong." Sync set down a pair of cards. "Two twos."

"Isn't the point of you studying to see for yourself what's true and what's not?" Natalia said. "One three."

"What, you think there's some kind of magical 'truth' that makes your country look good, Princess?"

"Sync," Tear murmured in a warning tone.

He glanced at her, then pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sorry. That was rude of me."

"Woah, Sync apologized?! And _meant_ it?!" Anise uttered, echoing Ion's thoughts.

"My!" Natalia gasped, holding a hand to her mouth. "I see you _are_ making an effort, like you said you would." She smiled. "Thank you. Apology accepted, Sync."

"...Anyway, the point I was trying to make is that history's subjective," Sync continued. "All we really know about it is what people decided to write down, and of that, only what's survived and allowed to circulate today. Plus, history book authors bring their own biases, perspectives, and lack of deeper knowledge into what they write, so you don't have a way of knowing for absolute certain what really happened without knowing who was pulling the strings behind the scenes. That's the first thing Van taught me."

"Why bother studying history at all, in that case?" Anise asked. "Two fours."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Sync replied, looking over at her. "Honestly, I still don't see much of a point."

"So then why're you doing it?"

"If I didn't do anything I didn't see the point of doing, I wouldn't do much at all." He frowned at Ion as he picked a card, and before he could set it down, added, "On that note, liar."

"Dammit! I was so close!" she cursed as she grabbed the pile, making Sync laugh. She paused and flailed at Ion the next breath. "Uh, I mean darn it! Hahaha!"

"You don't need to hold back for me, Anise," Ion reassured her. "I like it when you're honest with yourself."

She turned red at that, which made Ion a little happy. That happiness withered when he saw the sharp look on Sync's face. Today was a day for knife-blade glares, it seemed, and Ion hurriedly placed the five of spades down on the now-empty pile to cover up his discomfort.

_Is he angry at me? What did I do wrong?_

"Hey, Sync? Is there a reason you keep glaring at Ion?"

Anise's voice startled Ion, and from the way his shoulders tensed, it had startled Sync too. Natalia and Tear had also gone quiet, Natalia with wide eyes and Tear with narrowed ones. Ion took a deep breath. This was his opportunity. It would have been nice if he could have opened it for himself, but he was grateful to Anise for opening it for him.

"Have I done something to offend you? If I have, I'm sorry," he murmured.

Sync's lips thinned, but beyond that, his expression smoothed into a stoic mask. "No. You didn't do anything."

"So then what's your problem?" Anise insisted.

"You already know what my problem is. If you want this game to stay nice and fun, you really shouldn't ask me to repeat it."

"Anise, he's right," Tear cut in when Anise opened her mouth. "This isn't the time or place to discuss it, anyway."

Ion widened his eyes, then lowered them. It hurt more than he knew how to express that after all this time, Sync's feelings towards him appeared unchanged. He tried to tell himself that it was a known pain and that he wasn't doing what he was doing for him to get him to like him, but it didn't help. That made his uneasiness grow.

"Fon Master Ion? Are you all right?" Natalia wondered, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

On automatic, he replied, "I'm fine."

He felt Tear's eyes on him for a few seconds before she set down a card. "One six."

Natalia sighed, meanwhile. "Sync, forgive me for saying so, but your negativity is as trying as ever."

Sync shrugged and reached for one of his cards. "That's who I am. You don't need to soften your punches, Princess."

"Tear, are _you_ all right?" she added. "You're already sick - would you like me to take over for you once we've finished this game?"

In the middle of pulling out a pair, Sync's hand stilled.

"Thank you for your concern, but that's not necessary," Tear replied. "We're in the middle of studying, and anyway, I've come to enjoy his company." She glanced at Sync. "Unless you'd prefer to study with Natalia?"

Ion watched Sync as she spoke. His expression didn't change exactly, but something in his eyes glowed like a ray of sunshine peeking through a darkly overcast sky. He drew two cards.

"No, that's fine," he said.

Natalia must have seen it too, because she uttered, "Oh! Sync, could it be that you're angry with Fon Master Ion because you feel we like him and not you?"

Sync recoiled as if shot. The cards slipped from his hands, landed on their edge, and fell face-up to reveal the seven of hearts and seven of spades. He snatched them up an instant later, and if he didn't slap them onto the pile, he used enough force to convince Ion that master archer Natalia had hit the bull's-eye.

"Two sevens," Sync said flatly. "Your turn, Princess."

"Did I say something I shouldn't have?" Natalia asked, mystified. "I apologize if so, but you told me not to soften my punches, so to speak -"

"It's your turn, Natalia," Tear interrupted, to which she blushed.

Ion lowered his eyes as the others spoke until the tabletop engulfed his vision. Why was Sync angry over that? Hadn't he said over and over again how he didn't like any of them? That they'd never be friends or allies? But... didn't it also seem like he was starting to get along with the others - at least Tear and Anise - despite whatever else he said? And for that matter, if Sync was starting to warm up to the others like Ion had hoped he would, why did he keep feeling this constrictive, sickening thing? He wanted Anise to befriend Sync. That was what he'd wanted all along, for the others to let him experience the friendship Ion had. So why was he troubled?

No, he had to be thinking of this all wrong. Perhaps what he felt was a physical ailment rather than an emotion; certainly it had a physical effect on him. Surely it wasn't food poisoning, not with Anise having cooked breakfast. He'd felt it more than just today, anyway. Nonetheless, it felt familiar, somehow. He pressed a hand to his forehead.

"Ion?"

Was it part of his chronic malaise? Or was he coming down with something? That idea worried him even more.

"Iooon?"

For if he wasn't well enough to unlock the Daathic seals, what help could he be at all?

"_Ion_!"

"Oh!" he uttered, jerking his head up when Anise's voice finally cut through his thoughts. Without thinking, he added, "I-I'm sorry."

"Ion, are you okay? You don't look so good," Anise said, leaning in.

"You've looked a little under the weather since you arrived," Tear noted, eyebrows knitting together.

"If you're feeling unwell, please let us know right away," Natalia added, nodding once. "A simple game isn't anywhere near as important as your health."

"I'm fine," Ion insisted without conviction as Anise pressed a hand to each of their foreheads. "I just... was lost in thought for a moment." He forced a smile. "I'm fine, really. Thank you all for worrying about me."

Anise pursed her lips and pulled away. "Well, it feels like you don't have a fever, so I guess you're okay. Honestly, Ion, keep it together, all right?"

"I'm sorry," he repeated with a more honest smile, but he noticed Sync as he spoke. The other replica kept thumbing across his cards, onto which he'd fixed a dark frown. None of the others, even Tear, seemed to notice since they were all focused on him, and in a flash Ion understood.

_He _is_ starting to like Tear and the others, but they're my friends. It isn't just that he thinks they like me better. As soon as I have a problem, they drop everything to pay attention to me, which means they forget about him. The more he likes the others, the more he comes to resent me for already being close to them._

To cover up the revelation, Ion stammered, "I-is it my turn? Let's see, it's tens, isn't it?" Flustered as he was, he placed two cards without paying attention to what they were and said, "Two tens."

Sync's eyes ticked up to bore into his. Ion stared back at him, then down at his hand. With a jolt, he realized he'd picked the wrong cards, making his claim a lie. He braced himself, expecting Sync to call him out, but...

"One jack," said Tear.

Ion blinked at her, then at Sync. He eyeballed him a little longer, then flicked his stare down.

_Did he... ignore my lie?_ Ion wondered. _But... why?_

"One queen," said Sync.

"Liar! Hah!" Natalia crowed, drawing herself up with a triumphant smile. "I caught you in a most ignoble falsehood!"

Sync's mouth slanted. "This is your way of getting back at me for yesterday, isn't it?"

"Do I look that petty?" she demanded, indignant.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" he countered, collecting the sizable pile. "Liar, by the way. Just keep your card."

"Now who's being petty? Hmph!"

Anise snickered. "He can't help it. Sync's always losing at cards. It's because he's only ever played against the other God-Generals before."

Sync peered at her as if to ask what that had to do with anything. Natalia, however, blinked her eyes wide in curiosity.

"My! Do they have special abilities at trumps?" she wondered.

"They sure do!" Anise chirped. "For example, Legretta's got eyes so quick she knows what card you've got as soon as you pick it up. That's why they call her Legretta the Quick!"

"Goodness, I had no idea!" Natalia uttered in wonder as Sync raised a dubious eyebrow, Tear sighed in resignation, and Ion smiled nervously at Anise's tall tales. "I had assumed it was due to her speed in combat."

"That's just what they _want_ you to think!" Anise declared, grinning. "Right, Sync?"

Sync kept his eyebrow high, and for a second, Ion thought he'd insult her. Then, deadpan, he replied, "Anise, stop spilling all our secrets."

She stuck her tongue out at him and set down a card. "Nyeh! They're not as secret as you think they are! We know _all about_ the Commandant's hypno-brows. _Right_, Natalia? One ace!"

"Yes indeed," Natalia agreed with all due gravity. "Such impressive powers! Just what you'd expect from the Commandant of the Oracle Knights."

Sync looked over at Tear. Tear merely sighed again and shrugged. Sync looked back at Natalia and Anise.

"Well yeah. Everyone knows about _those_," he said with a grin. "Maybe you just think it's special because you're so low-ranked, Anise?"

"You really are a little punk, Sync," she retorted.

"Oh, but..." Natalia pursed her lips in concern. "Asch is fighting against Dorian General Grants, so doesn't that mean he'll be at risk of having that hypnosis used on him? Ohh, I hope he'll be all right...!"

"It'll be okay, Natalia!" Anise reassured her. "Asch... uh... can shoot hypno-rays from his eyebrows too!"

"Three twos," Ion said.

Natalia gasped. "Really? He never mentioned! I should have known - he's so strong. But... his eyebrows aren't quite as robust as the Dorian General's. Will he be all right should it come to a direct confrontation?"

"He might be in trouble," Sync said, catching Anise's eye. "But he's not that much weaker. His eyebrows aren't as impressive as Van's on their own, so he strengthens them by scowling all the time to make thick lines appear in his forehead. That builds up muscle, so I think he could hold his own in a fight."

"Oh thank goodness!" Natalia uttered while Anise nearly doubled over from holding back laughter.

"One three," Tear said with a sigh.

"Um... Is there anything else you can tell me about Asch?" Natalia continued, clutching her free hand to her chest. "What he's like in the God-Generals and so on...?"

Sync's smile faded. "No."

"That was abrupt," Tear noted as Natalia looked crestfallen.

"Get past the hypno-brows and you start entering confidential territory," Sync said dryly, half-smiling at her. "Besides, wouldn't it be better if you people just asked him directly?"

Natalia sighed. "I wish I could, but he'll barely stop long enough to speak with us. You told Guy and me a little about Largo, though-what made that different?"

Sync paused and frowned. "...It wasn't. Looking back, I really shouldn't have done that."

"What about the other God-Generals? Who _would_ you dish on?" Anise asked, leaning forward.

He considered that for a moment as he rearranged his cards. "I could tell you about Dist. He'll tell anyone his life's story if they can stand to listen to him for more than five minutes, anyway. Get him on the topic of the Necromancer and you'll get it even faster. Trust me, I speak from experience. Four fours."

Anise grimaced. "Ugh, I totally believe it. I didn't even ask and he started blabbing all about him."

"You've spoken with Dist about the Colonel?" Natalia wondered, setting down a card. "One five."

"Oh, right - he made that doll for you, didn't he?" Sync mused. "I heard about that."

"Modified it, but yeah." Anise sighed and shook her head. "This was a couple years ago. I only sat next to him at the mess hall a couple times and he latched onto me. Then he came over to _me_ and started in on the Colonel. He wouldn't shut up!"

Sync snorted. "I heard about that too. Did he do the thing where he seesaws back and forth between cursing him and praising him, sometimes in the same breath?"

Anise rolled her eyes. "You know it. It was mostly praise, though. He wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise! He was all 'Jade did this' and 'Jade did that'-"

"- and if you pointed out what an ass the Necromancer sounded like, he'd get mad at you, even though he was _just_ harping on how awful he was a second ago."

"Wow, you had the guts to call the Colonel an ass to Dist's face? You're bold!"

"I paid the price for it," Sync replied with a wry smirk. "I learned how to tune him out as a defense mechanism. But you're right. Half the time he was practically pining for him."

"Right, and he'd go on and on about how they were the best of friends -"

"- and he'd always call him -"

"- _Jade the Golden Child!_" Sync and Anise chorused, then burst into laughter.

Ion sighed and folded his hands.

"I think that's enough," Natalia said. "I can't believe I'm saying this about such a loathsome man, but I'm starting to feel sorry for him."

"I agree. This information isn't relevant," Tear added.

Sync snickered. "Oh, done already? Fine by me."

Anise made a face. "Yeah, okay. I shouldn't make too much fun of him, either. He helped me out and all." She set down her second-to-last card. "One six!"

"Liar," Sync said.

She flipped up the card to show that it was indeed a six. "Read 'em and weep, Sync! It's all yours now!"

He rolled his eyes and accepted the pile. After that, though, silence stretched out as Ion failed to do anything.

"Ion, it's your turn," Anise reminded him.

He unfolded his hands. There was nothing in between them. "I'm out of cards, Anise."

She stared, taken aback. The others, even Sync, looked startled too. "Wait - what? When did that happen?"

"Last round. I put down my last three cards and no one called my bluff. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry! But you really should've said something sooner," Anise chided him. "Congratulations, Ion! You won!"

_I won because you were all paying attention to Sync instead of me,_ Ion thought. When he met Sync's sideways stare, he felt certain Sync knew it too. Hadn't it been like that during hide-and-seek too? Each time he won, he won because the others had forgotten about him in favor of Sync. How many times had Sync felt alone because he was forgotten in favor of Ion?

_Is the only way he can be happy for me to disappear?_ he wondered, fingers curling into his tabard. _But... I don't want to disappear. I don't want Anise and the others to replace me._

_ If only we hadn't stopped him from falling into the core._

The thought came swift and vicious on the heels of the last, so much so that it stole his breath and left his skin prickly and cold.

"Well, back to studying," Sync announced, standing up. "Let's go, Tear."

Tear stood up and bid her farewells. Ion nodded back to her, keeping a pleasant mask on. When Anise suggested they play Old Maid next, he went along with it, because the worst thing of all would be for anyone to realize something was indeed the matter.

_Am I really such a spiteful person?_

_ What's wrong with me...?_


	12. One & Only

It felt strange to Sync that he was so close to Daath and yet so far away. He got a peek out of the port window in his cell, but with the Albiore parked away from the road, he could only see the Church past the city walls.

Not that it meant much to him. Van and his soldiers were already long gone. There was nothing in Daath that held any meaning for Sync - even more so since the others were obviously there to get to Mt. Zaleho.

It'd been a few days since he'd eaten lunch with Tear, one day since he'd gone on a walk with Guy and Princess Natalia, and just a few hours ago that he'd played cards with Anise and the others. Ever since that day with Tear, it felt like they'd all grown more used to each other. Sync wasn't sure he liked that for himself, but it was a good thing that they were getting used to him. It meant they'd let their guards down enough for him to take advantage. An opportunity would no doubt open up for him soon... though to do exactly what, he was no longer sure.

Until then, he still felt restless. Even if he kept exercising, it wasn't the same as real combat or at least a proper spar. They'd brought him several new books too, but he found himself growing bored anyway when he was alone. At least there was generally someone around to monitor him, and after the last few days, he felt more comfortable with casual conversation. Weirdly, his boredom only really abated when he had someone to talk to. He wasn't sure why.

* * *

Two more days passed. If anything eventful happened, no one mentioned anything to him. He did hear from Guy that they were heading back to Belkend, though when Sync tried to press for details, Guy ended up telling him he couldn't say. So much for lowering his guard.

It was at least easy enough to verify it when next they landed. Sync was familiar with the evergreens lining the road that lead to Belkend. He slept uneasily that night, and woke up with a jerk while it was still dark. He thought he could hear noises from outside, and when he checked the window, he saw a team of people heading down the moonlight-illuminated road to the port. Tear was heading up the rear... and so was Asch.

With shadows at his back, Sync was confident he couldn't be seen. He watched the procession until it was out of sight, then slipped back onto his cot to think.

* * *

Several hours later, he jerked awake as the Albiore started to take off. Bewildered for a moment, he realized he must have dozed off again at some point. Sync tried to get up but immediately collapsed as the airship took flight. He palmed his forehead and shook his head. That's right; he hadn't slept well, even for him. He started to feel exhausted around dawn, and...

He gave himself a moment to clear his head and regain his equilibrium. When he had it, he moved to the window. Belkend was shrinking below. He frowned. Had Tear come back? What was she doing with Asch?

_I'm so out of the loop,_ he thought, frustrated, settling back on his heels. He grabbed a book from behind his cot and sat at the table to read, but found it difficult to concentrate.

When the door unlocked and opened, Sync shot his head up. He frowned to see Luke, and behind him, Ion. Luke was carrying breakfast, and both of them looked worried. Sync caught the other Ion's eyes, but he averted them a second later, face pale. Sync had a good guess why that was.

"Hey," said Luke, turning around and unlocking the inner door. "Sorry, I completely forgot, so it's just a sandwich, and, uh, it didn't come out that great, but it's better than nothing, right? Anyway, we were in a hurry this morning, but I promise I won't forget about lunch."

Sync set down his book. "Tear went missing, huh?"

Luke nearly dropped his keys. "H-how did you know about that?!"

"I saw her leaving Belkend last night with Asch."

"May I, um, ask when was that?" Ion murmured, holding open the door and following Luke in.

Sync shrugged. "I don't have a clock. The moon was pretty high in the sky, though, so near the very middle between moonrise and moonset."

"Uhh... When would _that_ be?" Luke wondered.

"I don't know. It changes every night. Try looking it up on a lunar calendar."

"Okay. Thanks for the tip, Sync." Luke put down breakfast in front of him.

Sync peered down at his plate. "You burned a sandwich. How did you burn a sandwich?"

"S-shut up!"

"I mean, don't get me wrong; that's an impressive level of culinary incompetence."

"Well, excuse me for being a bad cook!"

Sync poked the charred remains of what was probably once chicken. "Yeah. Tear's cooking is a lot better."

Ion's lips thinned, but he said nothing.

"Well, Tear's not here right now, okay?" Luke grumbled.

"Too bad," Sync replied before he bit into the sandwich. He made a face but kept chewing. After he swallowed, he continued, "Come to think, the two of you have been together for a long time now, huh? Ever since she tried to assassinate Van in Baticul."

"Yeah, you're right. Wow, that feels like so long ago."

"Too bad you stopped her, huh?"

Luke frowned. "You're making fun of me, aren't you."

Sync snickered. "I wonder? Anyway, is she prone to ditching you like that?" He took another bite.

"I -" Luke thought about it. "...You know, she really isn't. Not at all."

"She's left the group, but only for vital matters," Ion pointed out. He smiled gently and added, "She stayed with you in the Qliphoth, too, Luke."

The redhead blushed. "Th-that wasn't for me! She said so herself. That was just a coincidence. If I hadn't woken up when I had, she'd have left me in Yulia City."

"But she didn't," Sync said. "Why?"

"I just said it was a coincidence!" Luke paused. "...But I _did_ ask her to watch me. She's always been really harsh on me, but she's also been really nice, so... I thought she'd be able to tell if I could really change or not." He rubbed the back of his head and studied the ground. "Plus, we had to stop St. Binah from falling. It's better to fight together than alone, right?"

"Hmmm... Was she? Able to tell, I mean." Sync tore off another bite.

"W-was she? I dunno... I hope she has. She hasn't given up on me yet."

"I think everyone's recognized that you're better at expressing your kindness now, Luke," Ion encouraged him. "That goes for Tear, too."

Luke blushed again, but he smiled. "...Thanks, Ion." He looked back at Sync. "So, uh, why do you ask, anyway?"

Sync swallowed. "Just curious," he lied. "This really is a bad sandwich."

"So stop eating it if you hate it so much!"

"And not clean my plate? That would just be _rude_."

Ion smothered a giggle. Luke ended up laughing, too, though he didn't try to hide it. Sync polished off the meal in a couple more bites - the less he chewed it, the less he had to taste it - and washed it down with the full cup of water.

As he drank, he thought about what he'd heard. So Tear had agreed to watch Luke... Before actually getting to know her, Sync had always seen her as an aloof, professional woman like Legretta. That wasn't wrong, granted. Tear had a lot of patience, but she didn't put up with nonsense, and Luke had been an arrogant little know-nothing before he blew up Akzeriuth. If she'd been following him around all this time without ditching him even after he did something like that, she had to like him.

And if she liked him, then she'd accept Fon Master Ion as a replica with few problems. And if she accepted both of them, it made sense she'd accept Sync too. She'd defended Luke when he wasn't around to hear it, and she'd also said she liked Sync's company, something that still made him want to smile when he thought about it. All the pieces fit cleanly together.

_I wonder if we'd ever..._ he began to think. Then Sync cut himself off with a shake of his head. "Friendship" was a stupid, dangerous thing to contemplate. Everything else aside, as long as Tear opposed Van, she was Sync's enemy too. He couldn't afford to forget that.

Mood spoiled, he pushed the empty dishes towards Luke and Ion. Instead of picking them up, though, Luke gave him a curious look.

"Hey, Sync. Come to think of it, you know a lot about Asch, right?"

"Yeah. So?"

"Could you tell me more about him?"

"Why should I do that?"

"Luke _did_ just talk to you about Tear," Ion pointed out.

"He did that of his own volition. That's got nothing to do with me or the other God-Generals," Sync replied, eyeing him.

"I'm not asking because I want to interrogate you or anything," Luke insisted. "I'm just curious about him. He's my original, but there's a lot I don't really get about him."

Sync heaved a sigh. After a few seconds of deliberation and deciding a chance to get more information was worth it, he gestured towards the cot. Changing topics from Tear to Asch suited his change in mood way too perfectly, anyway. "What do you want to know?"

Luke shot Ion a grin. Ion smiled back, and the two of them took a seat.

"Okay, so, aside from being an enormous jerk, what kind of person is he?" Luke wondered, leaning forward. "Oh, and I know he's some kind of amazing soldier. What's it like, working with him?"

Sync snorted. "Asch, an amazing soldier? Are you kidding? He's terrible."

"Terrible?" Ion echoed, startled.

Luke stared. "Really? I mean, I don't like him much, but - he's so strong!"

"He might be strong, and granted he _does_ get results, but he ignores orders to go off and do his own thing. That, or he takes the orders he has and goes too far with them." Sync smirked. "He's not called Asch the Bloody just because of his hair color, you know."

"That's very... colorful," Ion murmured, eyes lowered. He made himself look up. "I'd heard a little of this, but... isn't that just because of his resentment towards Luke?"

Sync's smirk faded. "Even before the current situation, he was like that. He _can_ be professional, but leave him to his own devices and you're asking for trouble, so a lot of the time he needs a babysitter. Oh, and let's not forget his legendary temper. He'd have been censured for insubordination a long time ago if Van didn't favor him. He's been a God-General for much longer than I have, but I've still had to clean up after his messes more than once."

"Wow. He sounds like a real pain," Luke said.

Sync laughed. "He doesn't 'sound' it, he _is_ a real pain. He's an idiot, too, like someone else I know. And yet not only was he in good standing in the Oracle Knights even after he started getting extra-unruly, he's on the Maestro Council when there's only six people on that at any given time. Life sure looks different when you're the Commandant's favorite, huh?"

Luke was silent. Ion gave him a worried glance.

"Well, not that I didn't know that from the start," the God-General continued. "It sure was handy, having a mask. Every time he seethed about how unfair his life was, I could roll my eyes at him without worrying about him flying off the handle at me."

Luke's eyebrows furrowed. "Did... he complain about that a lot?"

Sync touched his chin with one hand, considering. "Well... not quite. Not to me, anyway. We're not exactly friendly. But his hate was always simmering under the surface, and he liked to torture himself by keeping up on news about Kimlasca. Sometimes it would explode through."

Ion, still watching Luke, pursed his lips, then looked over at Sync. "D-did he ever show a kinder side? He's fighting against Van because he disagrees with his plan, isn't he?"

Sync laughed an ugly laugh. "Is that what you think? Well, normally I wouldn't say, but I never liked him and he's a traitor anyhow." He leaned forward. "Asch was originally completely on board with Van's plan. That includes destroying the Score and taking revenge on the world. It was only when he started suspecting the replica portion that he started rebelling." He shot Luke a flat stare. "A self-serving, hypocritical child. _That's_ what your original is like."

Luke grimaced and cringed at the same time. "You don't hold back, do you?"

Sync leaned back. "You asked."

"Yeah... I guess I did. Yikes."

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize you hated him so much," Ion said. "I had a rather different impression of him."

Sync thought of the times he had to endure Asch seething about replicas. "What can I say? He gets on my nerves."

Luke scratched his head. "He gets on my nerves too, so I can't blame you. Sounds like you had a tough time, Sync."

He snorted, smirking again. "Are you sympathizing with me?"

"...Is that bad?"

Sync stared at him for a moment. Then he rubbed his temples with one hand. _He asks the stupidest things,_ he thought, and shook his head. "If you're feeling so sympathetic, mind telling me how it went at the Mt. Zaleho Sephiroth?"

"How'd you -" Luke uttered, then cut himself off. "Oh, right, the window. You probably saw the Church of Lorelei, huh."

"Why do you want to know that?" Ion wondered.

"I never did find out how to get there from Daath," Sync replied, glancing over at him. "Believe me when I say I have no intentions of ever going there myself. I'm only curious if you guys found the entrance or what."

"Oh. Yeah, we did," Luke said. "Actually, Mohs told us where to find it, sort of."

Sync raised his eyebrows. "Really? I wouldn't have figured he'd be that magnanimous. The Grand Maestro always struck me as a petty kind of guy."

Ion smiled ruefully. "Well... actually, he only pointed us to the room it was in - not where precisely it was or how to access it. It turned out it was hidden."

Sync snorted. "_That_ sounds like Mohs."

"Oh yeah, that reminds me," Luke added. "He said a full half of the Oracle Knights left to follow Master Van." He paused. "...You don't look surprised."

"Can you honestly tell me that's in any way surprising?"

Luke rubbed the back of his neck. "...Yeah, you got a point. Anyway, we did eventually find that glyph."

"Where was it?"

"A hidden room behind a sliding bookcase in the second floor library."

"Huh. How'd you end up finding that?"

"Anise stumbled across it, literally," Ion said. "It was quite a stroke of good luck."

_Anise did, huh. And they didn't notice anything wrong...?_ Sync wondered, propping his chin up on one hand. "Did the Necromancer have anything to say about that?"

Ion blinked. "What do you mean?"

"About where the glyph was located," Sync said as delicately as possible.

"Uh... No? Not really," Luke said, puzzled. "He made fun of Anise for being a klutz, but that's it. Why?"

_Interesting,_ Sync thought. _Does this mean Anise is a good enough actress to fool even the Necromancer? Or _did_ they notice something was off, and they're hiding that from me?_

"Just curious," he said aloud. "It's the Necromancer, after all. I'd figured he would've noticed the glyph's fonons first."

"Yeah, I hear you." Luke laughed and pulled his feet up onto the cot. "I guess Jade can't solve all our problems. Not unless they're ones he can solve with his head, anyway."

"Does that mean he hasn't broken through the fon slot seal yet?"

The guilty, cornered look that shadowed Luke's face told Sync the answer to both his questions. _This idiot can't hide anything worth a damn._ "Never mind," he added. "I shouldn't have asked that."

"R-right," Luke stammered.

"Is there something about that entrance, Sync?" Ion asked, tilting his head. "You've been asking a lot about it..."

"How would I know if there's something about it? I've never been there before."

"Oh... I suppose that's true."

"And anyway, the important part is if you undid the Daathic seal there or not, but if you found the glyph, I'm sure you made it to the Sephiroth without a problem," Sync continued. "Too bad you didn't already know the location, huh, Fon Master?"

Unhappiness clouded Ion's expression. "Well... I _am_ just a replica."

Sync scowled.

Luke scratched his head, looking between the two others as the atmosphere grew heavy. Then he uttered, "O-oh, hey! Come to think of it, there's been something I've been wondering. This is off-topic, but can I ask you guys something? Both of you."

"What is it?" Ion wondered. Sync just kept scowling.

"Did either of _you_ ever meet your original?"

Ion blinked, then looked over at Sync. Sync eyed him but said nothing. Ion turned back to Luke, as did Sync.

"A few times, yes," Ion replied.

Sync, meanwhile, gave Luke a look like the forgotten groceries at the back of a freezer. "Do you really think a defect like me would've been allowed to meet the Fon Master?"

"Oh, well, I just thought... S-so you never did?"

"Never," he lied.

"I guess that makes sense. Sorry," Luke mused, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked at Ion. "Can I ask what he was like? If it's okay."

"It's all right with me, but let's leave it for later. We shouldn't bother Sync."

"Oh, right." Luke paused. "Wait, but maybe he'd want to hear about his original, too. What d'you say, Sync?"

They turned to him. Sync drummed his fingers on the table and refused to meet their eyes as he weighed one set of desires against another. After a long moment, he had to admit that he liked to torture himself, too.

"What the hell, why not," he said aloud. "I'm feeling morbid."

The room's attention fell on Ion. He smiled ruefully and admitted, "There isn't much to say. I spoke with the original Ion at length about things I would need to know as the replacement Fon Master, but I don't feel like I got a good grasp of his personality." He lowered his gaze. "He didn't really talk about himself as a person, and I was too young at the time to even think to ask."

"Oh..." Luke uttered. "That's a shame."

"But he did seem kind," Ion added, looking back up. "Arietta loved him very much, and he was very patient with me even though he must have been in great pain."

Sync narrowed his eyes and glanced away.

"He was also very composed," the seventh continued, thinking. "He was dying, but he never complained about it or cursed it. He smiled often and spoke softly... I think he must have already accepted it."

"So he was a pretty great guy?" Luke wondered. He shook his head and smiled. "No, he must've been, if he was your original."

Ion smiled back. "Thank you, Luke." His smile warmed as he turned it to Sync. "He's Sync's original, too, you know."

"Oh, right." Luke grinned at Sync. "Heh, maybe that means he was secretly evil, right?"

His lip curled, glare still bolted to the far wall. "...Tch."

"...H-hey, it was a joke. Don't take it seriously, okay? I was just being stupid."

"You don't need to tell me that. You're always stupid."

Luke made a face, then shook his head. "All right, all right, I guess I deserved that one. Sorry, Ion-what else?"

Ion gave the two a nervous smile. "Let me think... He had a lot of presence - a lot of confidence. Maybe it's because he was made Fon Master at such a young age. Knowing the Score from so early on probably meant he was always assured of himself and his decisions." He bowed his head, smile fading. "...To tell you the truth, I was a little intimidated by him. Maybe that self-assurance was why, but there was something about the original Ion that made me uncomfortable."

Sync looked at him.

"Well, no wonder," Luke said at the same time. "I mean, you were the replica being set up to replace him." He grimaced. "I can't even imagine how it must've felt to talk to him before you took his place."

"What do you mean, uncomfortable?" Sync asked.

Ion gave him a confused look, but considered the question anyway. "Mmm... It's hard to say. It was just a feeling." He offered a smile. "It was probably all in my head, anyhow."

Sync neither accepted nor returned it. "...I see."

"What else?" Luke prompted.

Ion's smile slowly died. Then he shook his head. "I'm sorry. That's all I can think of right now."

"Oh... Oh well." He hopped off the table and grabbed the tray of dishes. "We better get going, then. Thanks for the conversation, Sync."

"Whatever. Get out, losers."

"Always such a big ray of sunshine," Luke said, rolling his eyes. "C'mon, Ion."

Ion sighed, but smiled at his fellow replicas all the same. "All right. Please take care until we see you again, Sync. Once everything is sorted out with Tear, we'll be able to let you out again."

Sync didn't respond. He'd gone back to staring at the far wall. Ion's smile dampened, and he and Luke shared a glance. Luke shrugged. Together they left, Ion locking the doors behind them. He hesitated before shutting the final door, eyes lingering on his fellow Fon Master replica.

Although he understood him better now, there was still much that he just didn't get about him. One thing Ion knew for sure was that, despite his anxieties, despite the terrible things he'd thought the other day, he still found himself worried about him. He took a deep breath, then closed the door all the way.

He didn't know what was wrong with him, but he did know who might be able to tell him. It would be uncomfortable, but... if he wanted to figure out how to close the gap between himself and Sync, he had to do it.

* * *

Nonetheless, Ion didn't want anyone else to know what he was after, nor did he want to broach the topic too abruptly. He asked Jade for a private conversation, citing having a question about the Mt. Zaleho Sephiroth, which was technically true. When they'd gone to the room at the foot of the stairs, Ion sat on an old crate at the back and explained Sync's curiosity about the secret entrance of the Sephiroth and asked what Sync had-if Jade had noticed anything unusual.

Jade had perched himself on the lid of an empty chest to listen. His expression hadn't changed. "A transportation glyph is a passive arte. It's much more difficult to sense distinct fonons from those, particularly if it's in a sealed room." He rested a hand on his chin. "So, Sync was curious about that, was he."

"Yes. I thought it was a little odd, so I wanted to make sure nothing seemed out of the ordinary to you," Ion replied. When Jade didn't respond, he prompted, "Jade? _Was_ there something unusual?"

"...No, nothing. Nothing I'd care to discuss right now, anyway." Jade slipped his hands in his pockets. "More importantly, you had something else you wanted to ask, didn't you, Fon Master?"

"How did you know?" Ion wondered, a little taken aback.

"You wouldn't ask for privacy if that was the only thing you wanted to discuss."

Ion nodded. That was true. However, he hesitated. "Before I get into that, there's another thing I'd like to ask you first."

"What is it?"

"Have you been avoiding Sync?"

Jade paused. Ion held his stare.

"Yes," he admitted. "With all due respect, Ion, I find him despicable. Every interaction I have with him leaves me liking him less and less. Unfortunately, that doesn't mesh well with what you'd like for him, so in deference to your desires, I'm leaving babysitter duty to those with the patience for his attitude."

Ion smiled sadly. He'd had a feeling that it was something like that. "I see. Thank you for your honesty, Jade."

"...Not at all."

He criss-crossed his fingers. "The reason I ask is because... well... I think... or rather, I'm worried that... I might be coming to dislike him, too."

Jade's eyebrows rose. "Well, well. That _is_ a surprise. May I ask why you say that?"

So Ion explained to him about his anxieties about being replaced and the way he was becoming increasingly unhappy about Sync's relationships with the others, particularly Anise. Though he spoke falteringly at first, Jade's expression was sympathetic, which made it easier to eventually admit to how he'd found himself wishing Sync had fallen into the core after all. Nonetheless, by the time he was done, Ion felt a deep shame.

"I don't know what to do," he confessed at the end. "It's because I insisted on it that we ended up taking Sync along with us. I was the one who said I wanted him to experience friendship, and now that he's starting to, I'm upset about it. I know it's unfair and unreasonable, but I don't know how to stop feeling this way." He curled his fingers into fists and gave Jade a plaintive look. "...Is there anything I _can_ do? To become less selfish?"

Jade took a moment to consider it. Then he replied, "I don't think you need to, Fon Master. Selfishness is an innate part of being human, so long as you don't let it get out of control. If you want to learn how to control that selfishness, that's another matter. For that, I would like to remind you that while you and Sync might both be replicas of the original Fon Master Ion, you both remain very different people. Even if Anise and the others might come to like Sync, that doesn't mean they can't also keep liking you and being your friends."

"But what about Sync?" Ion insisted.

"To be frank, if Sync feels like he can only have friends if they focus on him instead of you, that's his problem, not yours." Jade paused at the downcast look on Ion's face. "...Well, I suppose that's not a very helpful answer," he added. "It remains the truth, though. You can't make Sync work through his personal issues. He has to come to terms with them himself, and to do that, he has to _want_ to come to terms with them. If you're determined to reach out to him, all you can do is keep reaching out until he becomes willing to take your hand."

"But... do I really want to reach out to him? If I did, I wouldn't have those kinds of thoughts, would I?"

"Well then, why don't you go ahead and abandon him? I'd be happy to arrest him and have the Malkuth military police take him into custody."

Ion's head shot up. "No, you can't do that!" he blurted out.

"Why not?"

He hesitated. Why not? It was a good question. He'd said it without thinking. If that was his gut reaction, did that mean those were his true feelings? But if so, why did he find himself wishing Sync gone in the first place? What _was_ he hoping to achieve by keeping Sync close by? If it wasn't to help Sync make friends with the others, then...

Jade watched him for a moment. At length, he said, "That, too, is something you'll have to work through yourself. I will tell you one thing that may help, though. What you experienced when you wished Sync had fallen into the core is likely what's called an 'intrusive thought.'"

"An... intrusive thought?"

"Yes. I'll avoid going into the technical details, but studies have shown that they come about as a result of your brain misinterpreting your physical reaction to something, or misreading something you're worried about as something you desire. The classic example is standing safely on something tall and being seized by an inexplicable desire to jump off of it, but they also include the impulse to destroy something you hold dear. In other words, an intrusive thought is generally speaking the opposite of how you actually feel, which is why they're so disturbing for those who get them. And most people do get them. It's quite a common phenomenon."

"Really?" Ion gasped, relief suffusing his body. "I had no idea!"

"Intrusive thoughts are, despite being common, not often discussed. I imagine you can guess why."

Ion breathed out a long sigh. "That's good to know. I'm glad I asked you, Jade." He pursed his lips and looked back up at him. "But... how do you deal with them?"

"There are two recommended methods I know of offhand. One is to sort through the thoughts logically - pick them apart until they collapse," Jade replied. "The other is to simply accept them. Let them wash over you and then shake them off."

"Do those methods work for you?" Ion wondered.

Jade shrugged. "I'm always logical."

That seemed to make sense, so Ion nodded. It wouldn't occur to him until much later that Jade's response hadn't actually answered his question, or even acknowledged if he got intrusive thoughts or not. "I see... Thank you very much for your advice, Jade. I know you don't usually like giving these sorts of talks, but it helped a lot."

"For you? It's all right. Besides, regardless of my personal opinion of Sync, I actually respect your resolve to get through to him." He tilted his chin down, and the low light glared off his glasses, hiding his eyes from view. "I wasn't able to do that myself," he murmured.

"What?"

"...Nothing." He pushed up his glasses. "Please forget I said that."

Ion remained confused, but he knew better than to press the matter. After a beat had passed, Jade stood, pleasant smile back on his face. Ion stood up with him.

"Well then, shall we head back to the cockpit?" Jade suggested. "I imagine Ortion Cavern is in sight by now."

"Yes, let's," Ion agreed, and together they left behind the dark, cramped place. He knew he still had a lot to think about and a lot to figure out, but now he'd regained hope, both for himself and Sync.


	13. Night After Night (Out of the Shadows)

It'd been a long time since Sync had been to Ortion Cavern last. Though he could only barely see the entrance from the port window, it was enough to let him see Ion and the others walk inside. From this angle, they probably couldn't see him - not unless they looked for him, anyway. He eased back before his breath fogged them from view.

Van would definitely be here. The plan had been, after committing political suicide, to retreat from Belkend to the facilities here. Asch had probably figured that out too; the only other option for large-scale replication was the Isle of Feres, and it was still a mess. As for Tear, it didn't matter if she'd run into Asch by coincidence or if they'd agreed to come together. If she met with Van... she wouldn't try to kill him, would she? She was too worried about him.

_Talk about stupid,_ Sync thought, leaning his forehead on the cool metal wall. He tilted his head to look back out. _Still, I doubt Van's hurt her. The problem will be how everyone else -_

A pair of Oracle Knights tromped out of the cavern, carrying a large trunk between them and derailing his train of thought. Sync lifted his head and watched them go, frowning, for the moment they remained in view. There was no way they hadn't encountered Ion and the others on the way out; there was nowhere for them to hide on that narrow path. So they just passed each other by without a fight? Had that been Van's orders?

The answer came a moment later, in high-heeled boots. Sync's mouth went dry, and he tensed.

_Legretta..._

His fingers curled into fists. Seeing her here reminded him of the core mission; the last time he'd seen her was when they'd split up at Sheridan Harbor. Van had chosen the both of them to crush that particular plan along with him, and explained their assignments well before it began. It was an extremely important mission, he'd told them, and so he needed those he trusted the most to execute it.

Trust - and then he'd gone and told Sync that his role was that of the back-up. The suicide mission that would only take place if Legretta failed. In other words, Sync would either be useless or dead.

It was a position of utmost importance, Van assured him. There was no one but him to whom he could entrust it.

_There's no one else as expendable as me, you mean,_ he'd thought back then. _Why don't you just say it? We both know it._

Out loud, he'd accepted his orders and his fate along with it. That had been that.

Legretta stopped in her tracks. The abrupt action interrupted Sync's reminiscing. His lips thinned and eyebrows furrowed, and he leaned a little closer to try to better see what it was that had caught her attention.

And then she turned her head to look directly at him.

* * *

Legretta's heels clicked on the slick stone floor of Ortion Cavern, echoes dying at her back as she left the damp cave. She had her misgivings about letting the replica's group go on to see the Commandant in the inner chambers, but he had insisted in that calm, sure way of his. In the end, she had conceded. The gunslinger reflected that many of her interactions with Commandant Grants had ended up that way.

The harsh sunlight of the outside struck a sharp line in the ground. Before she left the shadow, she stopped to let her eyes adjust. After so long in the dim light of Ortion Cavern, she didn't care to ruin her vision even momentarily. While she waited, she took the time to observe the airship the Necromancer's group had flown in on. It was an impressive piece of fontech. A pity they hadn't had the foresight to acquire it for themselves. Dist could probably -

Someone was watching her. Her eyes flickered, then focused in on a patch of movement. There, in a small port window, nearly out of sight. She hadn't noticed it at first. She turned the rest of her body to get a better look. She could have sworn she'd seen all of Tear's erstwhile companions in that group. Could that be the pilot...? But if so, why did it look like they were banging on the window? Legretta squinted and took a step forward.

"Locrian Colonel Legretta!" an Oracle Knight called. She hurried up to her, stopped, and saluted. "The last of the materials have been boarded. By the time Commandant Grants rejoins us, we should be ready to set sail."

"I see. Good work," Legretta replied, glancing at her.

The Knight followed her previous stare up to the airship. "Is something the matter?"

Is_ something the matter?_ she wondered, looking back. The person in the window was gone now, and the room they'd been in was dark. Had she stepped into the light, she'd never have seen them there at all. Legretta trusted her senses and so didn't doubt that she'd seen something, but as for exactly _who_ she'd seen...

"I'm not sure yet," she replied.

The Oracle Knight stared with her for a few seconds longer, then faced her. "If I may," she said slowly, "the replica's group relies on this piece of fontech. If it were to malfunction..."

"That goes against Commandant Grants's wishes," Legretta replied, evenly but without quarter. "Return to the ship, soldier."

The soldier saluted assent and left in as much of a hurry as she'd come. Legretta watched her go for a pair of seconds, then frowned back up at the airship.

* * *

"Dammit," Sync swore, leaning back from the window. He'd thought Legretta had seen him, but if she had, she would have taken some kind of decisive action. He glared up at the fonstone light, currently unlit. With the darkness at his back, even her sharp eyes would have trouble identifying him at this angle.

The port window was far too small for him to fit through, so he'd never bothered to try to smash it. Sync glanced around, grabbed the towel he'd washed himself with last night to protect his ungloved fist, and attempted to punch his way through the glass.

It wasn't glass, as it turned out. If it _was_ glass, it was stronger, tougher, and bouncier than any glass Sync had ever encountered before. Hissing through his teeth, he shook his bruised hand. Then he prepared himself mentally, focused his strength, and tried again. When that didn't work either, he cast around the room for a solution, settled on the single unsecured chair, and heaved it corner-first into the window with all his strength.

It bounced off, nearly landing him flat on his back. Breathing a curse, he regained his balance and shoved the chair back in place, towel draped over it. Then he leaned in again.

Legretta was still there. The soldier who'd taken her attention had left. If one had left without the other, she had to suspect something. She _had_ to. The thought burned in Sync's chest - not exactly hope, but a grim and thankless possibility that he could escape imprisonment and become useful again. Who cared about keeping secrets at this point? Tear and the others already knew what he really was anyway. Ion had said that Van would surely kill him if he knew he were still alive, and Sync imagined he might be right. Even so, death would be better than this interminable hell of kindness where he could neither do nor be anything.

_How can I get her to realize it's me?_ he wondered, frowning. _If it's too dark for her to see my face, then it's got to be something simple, but something indistinguishably mine._

He looked around at his cell, then down at his clothes. His eyes rested on the wards tied to his biceps and chest.

* * *

The figure had reappeared. Legretta suspected she knew them, which was the main reason why she hadn't already walked away. A strip of pine, a patch of black... It moved from view again, and she rested a hand on her chin. She could only think of one green-haired individual, but Fon Master Ion had been with the Necromancer's group.

Well. Technically she knew a second green-haired individual, but he was already...

The figure pressed something to the glass. She frowned. She couldn't see what it was from this angle. The figured peeked in, then began to turn the small strip towards her.

As it came into view, her eyes widened. Among the Six God-Generals, the Quick's long-distance vision was the sharpest. Picking out small details from afar wasn't difficult for her. Here, she saw a yellow tag with red symbols etched on it.

It was familiar. There was a point in time when she'd seen something like it almost every day. She associated it with -

"Sync?" she murmured.

As if in response, the figure lowered the talisman and stared at her.

She stared back. The longer she did so, the more she realized she knew that haircut, that jawline, that frown. Legretta had never actually seen Sync's face, but then, she didn't need to. She knew what Fon Master Ion looked like. It should have been a shock, but if Legretta was shocked by anything, it was by how much it wasn't. She'd always thought it odd how Sync the Tempest had come out of nowhere.

Thoughtful, she let her hands settle on her guns. She'd been the last God-General to see Sync alive, at the very beginning of the ill-fated Sheridan sting operation. He, too, had failed in his mission. Unlike her failure, though, his had meant certain death. She remembered Van briefing them on the mission parameters, assigning each of them their respective command. Legretta was to assault the replica's group directly in Sheridan and take them out by any means necessary, while Sync was to re-capture the Tartarus if possible and at least sneak aboard if not. Should anyone get past Legretta, the Commandant had said, it was vital to have someone on the Tartarus to ensure that the core's vibrations were not stopped.

That mission could go to none other than Sync, he had said. There was no one who could do it _but_ him. Only now did Legretta truly understand why.

However, even then, she'd recognized Van's words for what they really meant. She doubted Sync wouldn't realize too. So when he had only replied with calm assent, Legretta had to respect his resolve.

_Good work,_ she'd said to him, just before they'd parted ways.

His mask rendered him as inscrutable as ever. _The mission hasn't even started yet,_ he pointed out.

Her gaze was level. _I know._

It was as close as she would ever come to bidding him goodbye. He hadn't responded. Soon after, she'd left with a regiment of soldiers for Sheridan without looking back.

That was the last time she'd seen him.

She'd prepared herself for her comrade's death. She hadn't been prepared for the possibility that he would survive. However, surprises like this had never stopped her.

Legretta made her decision and faced the Nirni River cliff wall.

* * *

It was a surprise to Sync, the way Legretta strode over to the cliffs and started climbing. At the same time, it was just like her. Legretta was a soldier to the core, and if she was taking a risk like that, it was because she thought the benefits were worth it.

_It's almost flattering,_ Sync thought.

The Tempest watched the Quick approach, pulse hastening. She lived up to her title; only a moment later, handhold by handhold, foothold by foothold, and she'd reached a spot just outside his window. They could almost face one another this way. The other God-General took a moment, Sync guessed to make sure her grip was secure, then dropped a hand to her hip and twisted around.

When she held up her firearm to point directly at Sync's face, he didn't even flinch.

"Are you going to do the Commandant's job for him, Legretta?" he murmured.

She met his hooded stare but didn't pull the trigger. Her lips moved, but he couldn't hear anything she said. She probably couldn't hear him, either. As an experiment, Sync stepped out of her way.

Still nothing happened. He glanced in, and saw that she'd pulled back her shooting arm, a thoughtful frown on her face. Following her gaze, he noted the bars that locked him in. He looked back out at her, shrugged, and held up his manacled wrist. She cocked her head at it and frowned at him. He tapped it, then made a slashing motion over his fon slots, or at least the ones she'd be able to see from where she was. Her blue eyes widened slightly, and she nodded once.

Then she glanced back the way she'd come, holstered her weapon, and began to climb back. Sync pressed himself on the not-glass to see what she'd seen, and his already sped-up pulse began to race.

"Van," he murmured.

* * *

Legretta hopped the last five feet off the cliff to the pathway, then straightened to face the Commandant, who'd called her back from her perch. His eyebrows were raised, but his demeanor was calm.

"Commandant, I have a report to make," she said.

"Go on."

"Sync is alive and a prisoner of the enemy."

Van's eyebrows climbed higher. "Is he now."

Legretta turned toward the Albiore and pointed towards the port window. "I just verified it with my own eyes. He's being held in a cell on this very ship. It looks like Tear's companions have sealed his artes with some kind of fontech shackle."

The Dorian General stroked his beard. "Interesting. I genuinely didn't expect him to survive. I never thought he'd allow himself to be taken prisoner." He looked up. "How did you notice he was there, Legretta?"

Legretta settled her pointing hand on her hip and faced him. "He deliberately drew my attention."

"I see. So he wants to be picked up this time."

_This time?_ she wondered. "I should also inform you - he's without his mask."

In other words, she'd seen his face. Van lowered his hand. "Do you want an apology for not being told sooner?"

She shook her head. "I'm merely making a thorough report." She paused. Sync might have been a replica, but he was also a God-General. That, at least, deserved respect. "What do you want to do, Commandant?"

* * *

Sync watched as Legretta spoke to Van. If he had any doubts about what the topic of discussion was, they were dispelled when she pointed directly at his window. He made himself ignore the trembling in his fingertips.

_This is it,_ he told himself, swallowing hard. _Van knows I'm alive. Van knows I'm here._

_ What are you going to do, Commandant?_

* * *

"I see no reason to do anything," Van replied.

Legretta blinked in surprise. "Sir?"

"There's only one Sephiroth left until all of them have been unsealed. You, Largo and Arietta are already going to face Tear and her friends there, and I will be handling matters at the Absorption Gate. The only spot we don't have covered is someone to watch Tear and her friends directly. In that regard, Sync is very conveniently positioned."

"I see. Knowing Sync, I'm sure he's kept his eyes and ears open. He could well have valuable information. But wouldn't that be a reason to retrieve him now, while we have the chance?"

"Not at all. We already know where Tear's group is headed next. If they're keeping Sync captive on their ship, then he'll be with them. What's more, he would never betray our cause. There's no need for haste. Unless you have a different assessment?"

Legretta thought it over for a few seconds. "No," she concluded. "Since he made his presence known of his own volition, his loyalty should still be with you, Commandant. I didn't get the sense from the Necromancer's group that they knew anything they shouldn't, either."

"Precisely. I felt the same with Tear and Asch. If we needn't fear Sync talking, then there is no point in picking a fight here."

She nodded. That made sense. To retrieve Sync now meant a potential for important information, but it also meant an extremely high probability of fighting Tear's group prematurely. Sync was decently collected, in her experience. There probably wouldn't be a problem with leaving him for now. Even so, clear communication would turn that "probably" into a "definitely," so she suggested, "Shall I convey Your Excellency's orders to him, then?"

"Hm?" Van met Legretta's eyes. Then he smiled and shook his head. "There's no need, and more importantly, no time." He turned his back. "Sync is intelligent, for a replica. He'll figure out what I need him to do."

Legretta had her doubts about that, but it was true that they needed to depart for the Sylvana continent as soon as possible. They still had to meet up with Largo and Arietta as well. Ultimately, she decided to defer to him. Van understood replicas far better than she did, anyway.

"Understood," she said. Legretta followed Van to the ship without a glance back or even a silent _good work_.

* * *

There was one crucial thing Van had allowed Legretta to misunderstand. When he had looked up at Sync's window, he had thought back to a conversation two years ago in a shack in the woods outside Daath. The young replica had first expressed his suicidal tendencies then when he'd declared it was up to him if he lived or died. Van had swiftly decided that was unacceptable.

It was one thing for the core mission. Someone had to infiltrate the Tartarus, and Sync was the most expendable of those whom he could trust to get the job done. When he'd failed it anyway, Van had considered his death allowable at the time. Him being alive, almost certainly thanks to Tear and her companions's intervention, changed that. It meant that he hadn't fought his utmost, which in turn meant he had likely sought a place to take his final rest. The fact that he now _wanted_ to return, indicating that imprisonment was even worse than death to him, cemented Van's decision.

_You must be agitated, Sync, being unable to do anything,_ he had thought._ I'll let you stew a while longer before I come pick you up. The extra motivation will do you good, and besides which... trying to die without my permission is a serious offense._

And then he had turned his back.

_You need to be made to understand how much you need my benefaction._

* * *

Legretta wasn't the only one to misunderstand Van's intentions. At first, it didn't trouble Sync when they left. He only had a small sliver of a view from where he was, so he couldn't tell to where they'd gone. He was patient; he waited for the sounds of an attack, or for someone to return to finish him off.

Only when he saw Ion's group return, and soon after heard the roar of the engine and felt the lurch of the airship, did he realize he'd been ignored. Ignored and left to rot.

Did he really once think that there were contenders out there for Van's cruelty? How stupid he'd been! With a feeling like a kick to the gut, Sync realized that, somewhere inside, he was hoping that Van would come to get him like he hadn't in the core. That he'd take him out of here, that he'd let him participate in the final battle, that he'd do _something_ to acknowledge a need for him. That, like two years ago, he'd bring him a mask and tell him once again he needed to be useful or die. That, barring that, he'd allow him to finally die. Leaving like that, after taking the time to consider it, meant that Van saw no point in bothering with either.

Shaking, Sync rested one hand over his face and clutched his manacle with the other. Van hadn't bothered. He hadn't bothered to retrieve him. He hadn't bothered to kill him. He hadn't even bothered to send someone else after him.

_ But then, why would he?_ he thought, head jerking up. Taking out the trash was a trash man's job. Vividly, he pictured the Commandant's disdainful face, heard his cold voice:

_Surely you could do that much yourself?_

Sync's use truly was at an end. No - it had long since already ended.

He dropped his hands and let them dangle lifelessly.


	14. Heart of Misery

(Author's Note: TW for discussion of suicide.)

* * *

"Hey, Sync!" Anise chirped, opening up the cell door with a flourish as she balanced a tray in her other arm. "Tadaaa! Luke said he inflicted his cooking on you this morning, so I brought you something actually decent for lunch. Check it out: beef curry! Aren't you thrilled~?"

She paused at the overwhelming silence. Sync sat at the table in his cell, hand propping up his head, staring out the port window at the passing skies.

"Helloooo? Anyone in there?" she called, opening up the bars next. He still hadn't responded by the time she passed through those too, so she frowned and walked up to him. After several seconds with no reaction, she put down the tray, then circled around him and waved a hand in front of his eyes. "Syyyync! It's time for luuuunch! Can you heeeeear meeeeee?"

He puffed out a faint sigh and finally glanced at her. What struck her first was how... defeated he looked. There was something about his expression that lacked the fire, the anger, from almost every other time she'd ever talked to him. _Almost_, because she thought she'd seen him look like that before. She couldn't put her finger on where, though.

"Sync, are you okay?" she wondered, leaning forward in concern.

"I'm fine," he said in a monotone.

"Uh huh. Because you sure _sound_ fine."

"I'm fine," he repeated. "I'm just... tired."

She blinked. "I thought you only needed four or five hours of sleep a night?"

Instead of answering, he turned towards the tray and picked up the wooden spoon. He poked a couple of times at his food but didn't eat. Anise leaned around him, peering at his face.

"What, you don't like curry?" she wondered.

"Curry is fine," he replied, then took a bite.

Anise watched him chew mechanically, swallow, and take another bite. Her frown deepened, and she took a seat on the cot.

"Are you bored or something?" she wondered. "You seem pretty... I dunno, worn out."

He didn't answer.

"I guess I can't blame you," she continued. "We've been so busy lately, we haven't really had a lot of time to hang out with you. Oh! Tear's doing okay. We had to talk through some things - Tear and the rest of us, I mean - so that's what took so long, if you were wondering."

"Why would I wonder about that?" he mumbled.

Anise grinned wolfishly. _Finally, a reaction!_ "Oh, Iii dunnoo," she singsang. "_I_ heard you really missed her cooking~. Maybe you wanted to see her instead of me and _that's_ why you're so grumpy right now?"

He made a faint noise between a sigh and a _heh_. "Maybe."

She raised her eyebrows. That response was awfully... demure. _Don't tell me I was actually right?_ Leaning forward, she teased, "You want me to go get her, then~?"

"Do whatever you want."

There was something about the way he said that that made Anise shiver. It was so bleak, like he'd already... given up on something. Luke had said he'd seemed mostly pretty friendly during breakfast - for him, anyway - but Ion told her he thought Sync might have been a little upset by the end. She pursed her lips, then leaned back.

"I changed my mind!" she declared loudly. "You're not cute at all, you know that, Sync? You could at least blush and go," she dropped her voice in imitation, "'I-it's not like that, idiot! There's no way I'd like Tear! She's an enemy!' Or something like that~."

He half-heartedly stabbed a carrot. "So I can't even manage cheap entertainment, huh."

"I - no, that's not what I meant," Anise protested, unsettled. "I-I'm sorry, I was just trying to mess with you."

He moved the vegetable around his plate. "It doesn't matter."

"Sync... Seriously, what's wrong? Did Luke upset you?"

"Luke?" For the first time, he looked up. "What's that idiot got to do with anything?"

Anise stood up and leaned in towards the God-General, eyebrows furrowed. "Didn't he ask about your original? Ion told me."

Sync's eyes flickered. "Oh." He dropped his gaze and his fork. It barely clattered, the plate still being mostly full. "Oh, yeah."

"What, you _forgot_?"

He covered half his face with one hand and leaned on his elbow. Somehow, he managed to look even more miserable than before. Anise circled around until she faced him, bent to one knee, and hesitantly reached out to touch his arm.

"Sync, come on. Tell me what's wrong," she insisted. "This so isn't like you. You're freaking me out here!"

He shook off her hand, anger flashing across his expression. It vanished as quickly as a shooting star.

"It's nothing," he insisted quietly, refusing to hold her gaze. "I'm just not feeling well. I think I got food poisoning from that charcoal sandwich this morning."

_You're lying,_ Anise thought. She forced a smile. "O-oh! Well. That sucks. Sorry for bothering you when you're sick, Sync."

He didn't respond.

She got to her feet and clapped her hands. "Well, if you're sick, you gotta get your rest! C'mon, quit sitting there and lie down, huh? Okay?"

"It doesn't matter," he mumbled. "Just leave me alone."

"It _does_ matter!" Anise snapped, guts churning. She grabbed him by both hands and yanked. He stumbled to his feet, gaping at her, but she refused to be deterred. "Up and at 'em! Out of that chair! Good! Now lie the hell down! Yes! Good! Finally!"

She planted her fists on her hips, huffed, and then tucked him in. He stared at her the whole while, which made her feel self-conscious, but she'd done it for Ion so many times she could do it on automatic. When she was done, she stared down at him again, then pulled over the chair and sat at his bedside.

"What are you doing?" he uttered as she pulled off her gloves.

She pressed one hand to his forehead and the other to her own. "Checking your temperature," she replied. After a moment, she withdrew them and beamed her brightest smile. "Well, it feels like you don't have a fever! That's good! ..._That's good_, dammit!" she added when he flicked his eyes away towards the wall.

"I'm not your Ion," he murmured. "You don't have to take care of me."

"I'm doing it because I _want_ to, not because I _have_ to! Geez! How thick are you, you dumb jerk!?"

"...You're wasting your time."

"So!? So what if I am! It's my time and I'll do what I damn well want with it!"

He rolled his head back to stare at her. She puffed out her cheeks at him in indignation, silently daring him to say something. When he didn't, she stood up.

"I'm going to get some medicine," she declared. "You just stay there and rest, okay?"

"I don't need any medicine," he mumbled.

"Either it's medicine or you tell me what's _really_ wrong!"

He huffed out a faint breath. "...I'll take the medicine."

It would've been funny in any other circumstance. Anise nodded firmly, then left, locking the doors behind her. She hurried to find Tear, and she hurried to bring her back - because she'd remembered where she'd seen that look Sync had before.

It reminded her of the instant just before he threw himself off the side of the Tartarus.

* * *

Tear was surprised when Anise dragged her out of the cockpit, and even more surprised - and concerned - when told that Sync was sick. She reminded her that healing artes weren't effective against diseases and they ought to add a doctor visit to their stops before their final destination at Keterburg if it was that bad, but Anise insisted that Tear see him first. This didn't bother her, but she had to wonder what Anise thought she'd be able to do.

Sync didn't stir from the bed when they entered - not until Anise exuberantly announced she'd brought Tear with her. Then he sat up, propping himself up with one arm, and turned to look at them.

Immediately, Tear understood why Anise had been worried. He looked so... drained. The Melodist went over to the cot and perched herself on the edge while Anise grabbed the chair and sat.

"How are you feeling?" Tear asked.

He sank back onto the bed. "So you're the 'medicine,' huh...? I thought I told you before not to bother asking that."

"Anise told me you were sick and asked me to take a look at you. It's hardly a purposeless question in this context, is it?"

He sighed and tilted his head away. "...I'm fine. That idiot's making a big deal out of nothing."

_I'd say something similar in your position,_ Tear reflected. _Is it Van's upbringing that made us both this way...?_

"It doesn't look like nothing to me," she said aloud. "You look like you're in pain."

His eyes flicked down. He heaved a sigh. "I'll be fine," he repeated, more subdued. "By tomorrow, everything will be the way it should. Just let me rest, all right...?"

Anise interjected, "Wait. What's 'the way it should'?"

Irritation flashed across his expression. He said nothing.

"Sync?" Tear prompted. The way he'd phrased that had concerned her too.

"What do you care? Either of you?" he growled, turning his back to them. "Go away already. You're an eyesore."

Tear and Anise shared a glance. Both of them understood with just that that neither had any intentions of backing down now.

"We're worried because you look so unhappy," Tear replied.

"Yeah, way more than usual," Anise agreed. "And you're so quick to decide you just ought to die..."

Sync was silent for a moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick: "So what? I was never supposed to survive anyway. Dying tonight won't make any difference. So why don't you just both go away and pretend this conversation never happened...?"

Tear's stomach fluttered with shock.

"Sync!" Anise shouted, jumping to her feet. "You think I'm gonna just walk away after hearing you say that?!"

He bunched the sheets up into a fist. "You're so annoying...!"

"Yeah, that's right! And I'm gonna keep being annoying until you snap out of it!"

"Sync, there are people who would grieve for you if you died," Tear said, tentatively reaching out for him. "Fon Master Ion -"

"STOP IT!" He slapped her arm away and rolled around to face the two, swinging his legs over the edge of the cot. Tear and Anise both rocked away several steps in reaction. "Stop pretending you give a damn about me! I'm not your darling Fon Master, _okay_?! I'm just a useless, broken replica! I'm no good to anyone!"

They took another step back as Sync swept to his feet, shoulders taut, head bowed. "No one would care if I died! Even if someone did, they'd forget about me right away! Nothing I am matters! Nothing I do matters! So why do you people keep insisting on making me suffer this pointless, rotten existence?!" He slammed his fists into his legs. "I'm so sick of your pity! I'm sick of _all_ of you! Why couldn't you have just let me die in the core?! It'd be so much easier for you! It'd be so much easier for me! Just let me die! _Let me die!_"

He sagged, then collapsed backwards onto the cot and hunched over, covering his face with both hands. "All you have to do," he whispered, "is walk away."

Silence echoed painfully in the wake of Sync's screams. Tear held her breath, and so could hear her pulse pounding. The moment was fragile, and the fear she saw on Anise's face reflected that.

The most frightening thing was that it _would_ be easier to let him die. Sync had gradually come to open up to some of them, and Tear had grown fond of him too, but strictly speaking he was still their prisoner and enemy. Caring for Sync was an additional responsibility on top of what they already had to the entire world - one he claimed to neither want or appreciate. With him gone, they could focus on the mission. And Tear was no stranger to dealing death when the situation called for it. Here, she wouldn't even have to finish him off herself.

All she had to do was walk away.

Tear took a step forward, turned -

_I've never told anyone that I don't like onions,_ he had said.

\- and settled onto the cot, next to Sync.

It would be easier. And it would be wrong.

Anise hurried over and took a seat on Sync's other side, like Tear leaving a healthy space between them. No one spoke. Sync didn't move. All the same, the fragile moment had passed; the two Knights had given their answer.

Tear folded her hands in her lap while Anise leaned back and propped herself up with both arms, and together they waited in silence.

* * *

It felt like ages before Sync finally stood up, back groaning with stiffness. Maybe it even was ages. In that time, several of the others had passed by the open door and expressed their concern, including Fon Master Ion. Tear had politely sent them away while Anise had made faux-cheerful excuses. Sync had watched them both out of the corner of his eyes. Anise had fidgeted and squirmed, but Tear had sat patiently, never budging. In the present moment, Tear followed him with her eyes, but Anise stood up with him.

He'd pushed them away as hard as he could, and yet here they still were.

"I can't believe you two stayed all that time," he remarked, fixing his gaze on the ceiling. "Don't you get tired, dealing with a reject like me?"

"Well, you _are_ a big pain in the butt," Anise said, shrugging. "But now that I've gotten used to you, I actually like having you around." She grinned. "I'd hate to see you go already!"

Tear stood up. "Anise is right. No matter how Van may have treated you before, you're here because we want you to be here."

Sync breathed out a long breath and lowered his eyes. "You mean because the Fon Master wants me here, and you want to make him happy."

"It's true that that's part of it," Tear admitted. "And it's true that we're still not that close to each other. But that can change, Sync. It's already begun to change."

He sighed and sat back down. "It'll never change enough."

"Oh, come on, Sync," Anise said, flopping down next to him. She sobered. "I mean, sure, I don't have any idea what it's like to be you. But didn't you have fun with us, even a little bit? Forget about the Commandant! He's 100% wrong for making you feel this bad about yourself!"

Sync glowered at the floor. "Forget? He's the entire reason I exist. I lived to fulfill the purpose he made for me." He sagged. "And now that purpose is gone."

Tear stepped over and knelt down in front of him. He flinched up, and their eyes met.

"It's difficult for everyone to figure out why they were born and what they should live for," she told him gently. "Even originals have trouble with that. So it's okay for you to feel lost. You're not bad or wrong for feeling that way. But you mustn't give up."

"Why shouldn't I?" he mumbled, averting his gaze. "I'm tired of everything. I just want it all to end."

"If you're tired of everything, then focus on just one or two things," she persisted. "Think of what's important to you - what it is you really want to do. If you can't figure that out yet, then that's also fine. Just take things one step at a time, starting with what you can do. We'll be here to help, if that's what you want."

Sync looked back at Tear. She kept watching him steadily, just as she had a moment ago.

In truth, he believed himself beyond "help." But he already knew she didn't say things she didn't mean, and so it struck him the way she kept trying to talk him down when she didn't need to. Van had poured effort into raising and molding him, and he'd still walked away. No matter how much Tear respected the Fon Master, was it really worth it to go to these lengths for a broken replica?

_But she doesn't think of me that way,_ he remembered, straightening. _She thinks of replicas as real people. She thinks of _me_ as a real person._

He glanced over at Anise, who smiled at him. She had more reason to talk him out of suicide, but less reason to be friendly about it. _I actually like having you around,_ she'd claimed. Sync didn't trust her, but he was starting to think she wasn't just saying that.

And he _did_ have fun around her. He'd acknowledged that ages ago, when he'd double-checked the definition in the dictionary. Their fights helped him blow off a lot of stress, and her return insults kept him on his mental toes. She was a pain, but he'd come to like having her around too.

It didn't balance out his misery. Nothing ever would. But for now...

"One step at a time," he repeated.

"Right," Tear said, offering her hand. He accepted it and stood.

...it was enough.

"So you must be pretty hungry!" Anise declared cheerfully, hopping to her feet. "You want me to heat that curry back up for you?"

Sync opened his mouth to tell her not to bother, then hesitated. "...Yeah, that's fine."

Tear tilted her head. "Are you certain? If you'd rather have something without onions, I don't mind preparing something for you."

"What, you don't like onions?" Anise said.

Sync shifted his weight to the other foot, feeling awkward. "...no."

"Well, what _do_ you like? Me or Tear can make it for you no problem. Or if we can't and you know how, you can make it yourself and we can help you out!"

"That sounds reasonable," Tear agreed.

_I'll never get used to this,_ Sync thought, but he felt himself relax anyway. He'd never told anyone what foods he liked either, but in that moment, he saw no reason to hold back. "Well..."

* * *

The smell of something delicious was Ion's first sign that something had changed. He followed his nose to the kitchen and peeked in to see Sync, Anise and Tear all preparing something: Anise setting places and pouring three glasses of milk, Tear washing and drying dishes, and Sync standing over a makeshift grill on the stove, turning what looked like three skewered whole squids. The thing that struck Ion most about it was how much more at ease Sync looked than when he'd stopped by his room earlier. Tear and Anise had been with him then, too.

He ducked his head back, smiling, before he was seen. It wasn't polite to eavesdrop, but Ion was worried about Sync and didn't want to upset him by making his presence known.

_Just for a few minutes,_ he told himself.

A moment later, after noises of distributing food and sitting down to eat, he heard Anise exclaim, "Mmm! You know, Sync, I never would've pegged you for a good cook."

"You think I could ask someone else to cook for me? I had to learn."

"You've learned very well," said Tear. "Thank you for making portions for us, too."

"...It's no big deal."

"Heehee, he's turning red! You might be pretty cute after all, Sync~!"

"Shut up," he said with more embarrassment than dislike in his tone.

Ion heard Anise giggle, but there was a moment where they ate instead of talked. The Fon Master smiled fondly. So that smell was something Sync had cooked himself. Anise and Tear were awfully lucky, to be able to eat with him. Ion wished he could walk in and ask for some too, but he imagined he wouldn't be welcome. The thought made him feel bad, but... he had to accept it, right?

He turned slowly to leave. When he did, he spotted Luke approaching from up the hall. Luke smiled and lifted his hand in greeting, mouth opening. Ion took a step towards him and lifted his finger to his lips before he could speak. Luke paused, hand flagging in puzzlement.

"Say, Sync," Anise said just then, "do you like cooking?"

"I don't like or dislike it. It's just something I have to do."

Luke's eyes lit in understanding. Partial understanding, anyway, because rather than turning around to leave, he snuck closer. Ion waved his hands to try to dissuade him, but stopped when it became plain his intended meaning wasn't getting across. Besides, considering Ion had stayed for a moment to listen in too, he found it difficult to fault Luke for being curious. Surely just a little longer wouldn't hurt...?

"Uh huh. Just like you don't have any foods you like or dislike?"

Ion heard nothing, but he could easily imagine Sync giving Anise a Look and Anise smirking back at him. Over his head, Luke peeked into the room.

"Anyway, I asked because if you wanted to learn more about cooking, I could teach you! It's something to do, right?"

"...You have a point. Hm. I _do_ want to learn how to make bread. What would we do?"

"Hmm... Well, to make good bread, you have to learn how to knead dough right. To start off, I'd train your kneading techniques by having you give me back massages!"

Luke leaned back and shot Ion an 'is-she-for-real' look. Ion couldn't help it; he smiled.

"On second thought, I'd rather learn from Tear."

"That'd be for the best," Tear said wryly.

"Boo! Don't encourage him, Tear! And don't tell me you're giving up already, Sync!"

"I'm not giving up. I just think you're full of it."

"Boo boo boo!"

Ion covered a giggle. _It sounds like he's feeling much better, _he thought, catching Luke's eye. He took a step backwards, trying to coax Luke back with him, and ended up bumping into someone. When he turned, he saw Guy, giving them both a curious look.

"Is there anything else you'd like to learn how to do?" Tear asked at the same time, covering the noise.

"Yeah. If you weren't working for Van, what would you want to do with your life?" Anise added.

"If I weren't working for Van?" Sync echoed. He was silent for a moment.

During that silence, Guy murmured, "Eavesdropping is a bad habit, Luke. I'm surprised to see you here too, Ion."

"I'm sorry," Ion murmured reflexively.

Luke looked guilty, but he still whispered, "Shh, I wanna hear this."

Guy shook his head, smiling ruefully, and leaned in too.

Inside, Sync finally said, "Speaking of whom, how'd it go with your brother?"

"Don't change the subject," Tear chided.

"I'm not. If Van accomplishes what he means to, thinking about what else I'd do with myself is pointless."

She sighed. "...Not well."

"Didn't listen to a word his poor, worried little sister had to say, huh?" When Tear said nothing, Sync continued, "Well, he wouldn't have changed his mind no matter who talked to him. Don't feel too bad."

"Sync, you're really bad at comforting people," Anise remarked wryly.

Guy, Luke and Ion all shared a surprised glance when Sync said nothing to contradict her.

"It's fine," said Tear. "I was resolved to kill him well before my journey began."

"Kill him, huh," Sync mused. "You really think you can manage that?"

"It's not a matter of can or can't. I must, so I will. And this time, I'm not alone."

There was a moment of silence. Ion, against his better judgment, peeked around the doorway to try to get a look at Sync and his friends. Above him, Luke and Guy leaned in too.

"_What_ are you three doing?" Natalia's voice sounded behind them.

"GWEAAGH!" Guy shrieked, launching himself away from the young woman suddenly at his back and directly into Luke and Ion. The next thing Ion knew, the metal floor in front of the kitchen below and Luke and Guy above had knocked all the air out of him.

"Ion!" he heard Anise cry, even as he struggled helplessly under the weight of the two much larger boys. Ion opened one eye to see Anise and Tear both hurrying over to him, the former immediately dropping to her knees next to him. "Guy, get off! You're crushing Ion!"

"S-sorry! Sorry!" Guy yelped, scrambling off and away until he'd pressed up against the wall. "Luke, Ion, you okay?!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Natalia gasped. "I didn't expect you all to just collapse like that!"

"Owww," Luke groaned. Next to him, Tear offered a hand, which he accepted and used to pick himself up with. "I'm okay. Ion, are you all right?"

Ion took Anise's hands and crawled to his knees. Over her shoulder, he saw Sync, still at the table that Tear and Anise had abandoned, frowning at him tight-lipped. "I-I'm all right," he tried to reassure them. "I'm just a little shaken up. I'm sorry, this is all because of me."

"Ion, you didn't do anything!" Anise said. "You don't have to apologize!"

Ion met Sync's icy eyes. His expression had darkened, but he got up from the table and walked around it, then stopped to lean near the kitchen and watch.

"No," he said. "I noticed the three of you talking together, and I..."

"It's not just your fault, Ion," Luke interrupted, looking embarrassed. "I was the one who stuck around. We were, um, kinda listening in on you guys. Sorry."

"...Yeah," Guy admitted, rubbing the back of his head. "I came in late, but I didn't exactly stop it."

"So you _were_ eavesdropping! Shame on you!" Natalia exclaimed.

"Luke," Tear uttered, radiating distilled exasperation.

"I said I was sorry!"

As everyone chattered and got everyone back onto their feet, Ion watched Sync watching them for a few seconds longer, then averted his gaze. He had the nasty feeling that he'd somehow made things worse. He, Luke, and Guy all apologized again, but Sync didn't return to the familiarity Ion had overheard, and he didn't know how to fix it.

* * *

"How are you feeling now?"

"You just aren't going to stop asking that, are you," Sync said, sitting on the edge of his cot. Starlight twinkled distantly outside the window of his cell.

Tear set down the soap, bucket of water, and damp towel she'd brought for his nightly self-cleaning and seated herself next to him a little closer than she had earlier that day. "I will when it stops being a concern."

He looked up at the ceiling, fingers criss-crossed. "Not good," he replied, discarding the lie that had been on his tongue. "But my thoughts are clearer now."

"Are you still thinking of killing yourself?"

He almost laughed. "Straight to the point, huh?"

"Now that it's just the two of us, I don't have to be discreet."

Sync's hands squeezed together. "I don't ever really _stop_ thinking about killing myself," he replied, jaw tense. "Today was just more intense than usual. That's all."

Tear watched him, concern in her eyes. "Do I need to stay with you tonight?"

He jerked around to stare at her, then pursed his lips, ignoring the twinge of wistfulness inside him. "No... you don't need to do that." She didn't look convinced, so he insisted, "Don't," then reined himself back with, "Please don't. It's... bad enough you saw me when I was weak."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "I understand. But will you promise me something, then?"

"What is it?"

"Will you promise not to hurt yourself? At least until tomorrow?"

He held his breath for an eternity of a second. Then he crooked a half-smile he didn't feel. "You and Anise still need to teach me how to bake bread, right? Don't worry; I won't kill myself. You'll see me tomorrow. I promise."

Her face softened. "Good. Thank you; I'm glad to hear it. I'll come see you first thing in the morning, all right?"

He paused. Then he shook his head. "Actually... could you send Anise instead? There's something I want to say to her. Privately."

Tear nodded. "All right, if that's what you want." She stood up. "Speaking of which, I'd better give you some privacy now. Please give me a shout when you're done washing up."

Sync almost laughed. He ducked his head down instead and gave the floor a brittle smile. "You're... too good to me."

* * *

Midnight was quiet like usual. Sync had intended all along to wait for the still of late night, but what he awaited was different now. The sheets he'd intended on fashioning into a noose, he instead wrapped around his mouth and tied tightly at the back of his neck. When he was done, he sat at the table and stared at the shackle on his left wrist, which was still slick against his skin with soapy water. Tear hadn't suspected a thing. Next to his right hand rested the steel knife-sharpener rod he'd stolen from the kitchen while everyone had been distracted with Fon Master Ion and Luke. It hadn't been easy to keep it hidden all day until he'd finally gotten the privacy Tear had been so nice to give him, but he'd managed. He gripped it.

_Think of what's important to you - what it is you really want to do,_ she'd said.

Apparently, Tear had forgotten that Sync was a God-General loyal to a man he hated. He couldn't blame her, though. She had no idea what he truly wanted was to annihilate the Score, and that only Van's methods would or could make that happen. Even he'd forgotten temporarily. He'd been so stupid, falling into despair. It wasn't about him, wanting more than he deserved. It wasn't about Ion or Luke, instantly everyone's focus. It wasn't even about Van and his delusions of saviorhood. It was about ending this stupid, Score-obsessed world.

But it wasn't in the spirit of what Tear had told him. She'd probably hate him. The thought, irritatingly enough, made him hesitate. Anise and her cooing over Ion was one thing; Sync never trusted her anyway. But Tear... he hated that some part of him didn't want to disappoint her, even though she was out to kill the only one capable of making Sync's wish come true. Why couldn't he have met her sooner, before Fon Master Ion had? Maybe if he'd gotten to know her first, things could be different. Maybe everything could've been different.

But it wasn't. And it never would be.

His grip tightened.

_It's not a matter of can or can't. I must, so I will. And this time, I'm not alone._

Alone or not, she'd never defeat Van. But with a team, she might injure him enough to jeopardize the mission. No matter how he felt about her or how she ended up feeling about him, that was the one thing Sync couldn't allow. He'd known it the second she'd said that.

There was still time to turn back... but to turn back was to abandon his wish.

He exhaled a long breath through his nose.

_It doesn't matter,_ he told himself. _I'm used to being a disappointment._

Eyes locked on his shackled hand, he raised the rod high above his head.


	15. The Fight

_I messed up._

Sync wheezed, blowing bloody bubbles, as he clutched his torn and useless left arm. He couldn't feel his right leg, which was only partly the fault of the snow he was half-buried in, and his left was dangerously wobbly. His vision blurred in and out of focus, but he could still see well enough even through his wind-whipped bangs and the blood dripping down his face to count the ice wolves that now had him surrounded. They inched closer and closer as they prowled, stepping around the corpses of the rest of their pack. Overhead, a pair of glasrudas flew lazily towards him, unconcerned with danger. Once they were close enough, they'd attack with a wing spin, and the other monsters would realize he no longer had the strength to fight back.

Sync coughed violently and spat up something thick and red. His back screamed with pain, and the breath tore like silk curtains from his lungs. His right hand trembled as the fon verse for First Aid, the only healing arte he knew, floated to mind, but he knew it was too weak to get him back to fighting shape.

The monsters drew another few inches nearer.

_So this is it,_ he thought, watching them as he heaved. _I was such an idiot._

_ It was a short and pointless life, and I accomplished nothing at all._

A cynical laugh bubbled out of his throat, and he thought briefly of someone who wasn't there. "Serves me right. I deserve a pathetic death," he rasped into the blustering wind. "So go on and eat me. I'll jaundice your liver."

The first ice wolf leaped.

* * *

EARLIER...

Keterburg was as lively as ever, especially since the snows had stopped falling for once. Aside from the port, which was currently full, the Albiore could only land on a small, temperate field of grass south of the city, so the clement weather made it easier to hike from there to town. Ion was grateful for that; the easier the trip, the less he'd slow the others down.

He was concerned, though. Like usual when they left for a Sephiroth, Sync was to remain locked up on the Albiore, but Sylvana was cold at the best of times, Mt. Roneal was much further away, and they anticipated a showdown with the God-Generals. Not to mention, he had seemed so upset yesterday, though Anise reassured him he was doing much better today. She knew because she'd prepared and given him extra portions of food that morning. Still, to spend that much time alone... It would be sure to be difficult.

Anise had also mentioned he'd hurt his hand last night, apparently while he'd been doing exercises, which also worried Ion. Luckily, Luke had stopped by and, when he'd heard the situation, given Sync an apple gel so he could heal up while they were gone. Once she'd finished locking up, the eight of them had left - Noelle wanted to do some maintenance work and catch up on her sleep, so she stayed behind - and soon arrived at Keterburg.

_I hope Sync will be all right on his own,_ Ion thought as he walked through the cobblestone streets behind most of the rest of the group. _I'll have to find some new books for him while we're here._ He glanced at Anise, who walked next to him. She'd been in a skittish, distracted mood ever since they'd left the Albiore. At the same time, she was all smiles and rosy cheeks.

"Say, Anise," he said, drawing her attention. "Did something good happen to you today?"

"Huh? Oh, haha, no, not really!" she claimed, waved a hand. "Well, I mean, it's not like it was _bad_, but..."

"But something did happen, right?"

She turned red. "N-no, nothing happened! He was just a little grateful about yesterday, that's all!"

Ion suspected Anise was hiding something from him, but he smiled anyway. "Was he really? I'm happy to hear that." He sighed a little, pressing a hand to his chin. "It's a shame he injured himself... I hope he didn't do it on purpose."

"I don't think he did. I mean, Tear said he promised. I don't think he'd go back on his word to her," Anise replied.

Ion smiled warmly. "You two really are getting along better now, aren't you?"

She blushed again, but this time she grinned too. "Yeah, I guess so. He's actually kind of sweet when he stops being such a sarcastic jerk!"

Ion blinked. "Sweet...?"

"Oh, I don't mean anything by that, Ion," Anise reassured him a little too quickly, waving both hands. "I mean, he had trouble being honest about how he felt, so he got all awkward and embarrassed..." She trailed off as Ion stared at her, then flailed her arms. "Look! It wasn't a big deal, okay? It just turns out he's a good kid after all!"

_Anise... What aren't you telling me...?_ Ion forced another smile. "Oh... Okay." His smile softened. "Let's be sure to pick up something for him to read on the way back. I'm sure he'll be happy about that."

"Sure!"

Ion let the conversation turn to other matters, but his thoughts lingered on his fellow replica. After his talk with Jade, Ion had spent time sorting through his feelings about Sync. In the end, Ion had to conclude that even if he was jealous, he was still truly glad for Sync that he was starting to make friends. If he made friends with the others, then maybe one day they could be friends too.

As for Anise, the two of them seemed to enjoy arguing with one another, but he'd been worried about that being the only part of their relationship. So if Sync had come to trust Anise and open up to her after whatever he'd been upset about yesterday, then that was good. Even if Sync did continue to reject Ion, surely it was enough that he let _someone_ in. And it was good that Anise had grown genuinely fond of him in return. Ion didn't want their friendship to exist solely because he told her to be nice to Sync. He wanted both of them to be happy - and by all appearances, they were.

So why did this poisonous feeling have to keep welling up inside of him...?

* * *

Legretta and Largo turned towards the liger that leapt down into the snowy mountain clearing with them. Arietta swung one leg over and slid off, then took a few small steps towards them.

"How was it, Arietta?" Largo asked.

"My friends saw them climbing the mountain," Arietta replied, peeking mournfully over the head of her usual doll. "They'll be here soon."

Legretta nodded. "Good work. Let's review the mission parameters briefly, then." She turned to face both of her fellow God-Generals. "The Sephiroth is just ahead. We cannot allow them to reach it. If we can convince them to turn back, good. But if we cannot, we must be prepared to kill them, once and for all."

Largo shut his eyes, a low noise rumbling in his throat. Arietta clutched her doll.

"I was already prepared. They'll pay for killing Mommy," she swore. "And I need to get Ion away from Anise!"

Legretta and Largo didn't exchange a glance. They were long since used to that.

"Once we've neutralized them," Legretta continued, "we're to seize their airship and join the Commandant at the Absorption Gate. Any questions?"

Arietta shook her head.

"One, actually," Largo said. "Isn't it about time you told us who the fourth person is?"

Legretta knew what he meant, of course. At the time that the Commandant had given those orders, he'd instructed the "four" of them to rendezvous at the Absorption Gate. When Largo had asked what that meant, Van had said Legretta would fill them in on the details, as it was a story that required more time than they had.

Which was true enough. Legretta had asked Van about it afterwards privately, and he'd told her that he wanted it kept discreet since Arietta would be with them. That was true, too. Largo was unlikely to be a problem, but if Arietta learned Sync's true identity, there would be no way she'd stay calm. As such, she replied, "I'd intended on telling you after the battle was over. It makes little difference before then."

Largo nodded. "So it really wasn't Dist. I hadn't been sure."

"I understand why you would have been confused by that," she replied. Dist had left for Keterburg ages back and never returned. When they'd arrived in town that morning and encountered him half-frozen in the main plaza, mumbling the Necromancer's name, they'd collectively decided to move on without him. "But no, though we should probably pick him up as well, assuming he hasn't frozen to death."

"Is there a particular reason we shouldn't know before the battle?"

Legretta considered that as Arietta blinked up at the two of them. She'd intended on getting everything discussed at once, but if it was just a matter of dropping a name... It could prevent potential surprises as well, depending on how the confrontation with Tear's group went. "No," she said. "He meant Sync. He's alive and imprisoned on their airship."

"What?" Largo uttered, surprise splashing across his face.

"Sync is... their prisoner?" Arietta said, likewise startled. When Legretta nodded, she considered this for a moment. "I thought he was stronger than that," she concluded.

_Sync wouldn't be happy to hear you say that,_ Largo thought.

"If I had succeeded at Sheridan, he wouldn't have been put in that position. We can't put all the blame on him," Legretta replied. "Regardless, he's still loyal to the Commandant, so there's no reason not to release him once we're done here."

"I see," said Largo. "Odd, that they kept him on their transport. It would have been easier to arrest him and have the military police take him into custody. Why didn't the Necromancer do that?"

_Because he's a replica of Fon Master Ion,_ Legretta thought - but she couldn't explain that with Arietta present. "That's not important," she said. "There's more to discuss, but let's focus back on the task at hand for now. Arietta, what are the current avalanche conditions?"

"I saw a lot of snow further up the mountain when I was looking around with my friend," Arietta murmured, fidgeting. "She said some of the snow is fresh, so there's a big chance of an avalanche... Is that okay...?"

"That's fine," Largo said. "We're all prepared to risk our lives. In the worst case scenario, an avalanche might help us."

"It wouldn't be ideal, but as long as we can eliminate threats to the Commandant..." Legretta said.

"B-but isn't it dangerous for Ion?" Arietta insisted. "He's so weak now... If he gets buried under all that snow, he..."

Largo rested a hand on her shoulder, making her trail off. He set down his scythe and knelt to eye level with her. "That's why we have your friends," he reassured her. "It'll be too dangerous during the heat of battle, but they'll be able to get the Fon Master away if need be."

"Yes," Legretta said, still standing but tone gentled. "It would be better for us to destroy the enemy and leave with the Fon Master without dealing with an avalanche, but we'd disappoint the Commandant if we didn't consider all possibilities. We're counting on you and your friends, Arietta."

She made a small noise, then nodded.

The liger, which had until then stood obediently behind Arietta, lifted its head and stared towards the path leading down the mountain. A low growl vibrated in its throat.

Arietta looked at it. "My friend says... they're coming," she murmured, fingernails digging into her doll.

Largo retrieved his weapon and stood to face their incoming enemies.

"Good work. Arietta, have your friend fall back," Legretta told her. Seeing Arietta furrow her brows, she added, "We'll need them to watch our backs in case anything goes wrong."

"Besides which," Largo added over his shoulder, "Legretta and I are here. We don't want to put your friend in unnecessary danger."

Arietta relaxed and made a small noise of consent, then pressed her hand on the liger's flank. It turned his head towards her, rumbling, then paced around and leaped up the mountain, well away from the clearing and swiftly out of sight.

The next moment, Luke and Natalia appeared around the bend, the rest of their group behind them. Without looking at each other, Legretta, Largo and Arietta moved into position to block their way, and Legretta announced their presence with a single gunshot at Luke's feet.

They froze in place with a shout while their companions hurried up from behind them. Legretta kept her weapon trained on the group, but her blue eyes settled and focused on Tear.

"Tear! Enough of this!" she called. "Is this world really worth sacrificing your life to protect?!"

"Is this world worth it to my brother to sacrifice his life to destroy?!" Tear countered, bringing her staff around into a defensive position. "And if it is, why isn't it worth it to _you_ to stop him?! You're his adjutant! Isn't it your duty to protect him - even from himself?!"

"It's because I'm his adjutant that I merely follow my orders," Legretta called back. Turning her tone to persuading, she continued, "If you're worried about the Commandant's health, then you should join us!"

Tear shook her head. "I can't go along with what you're all trying to do! It frustrates me that I can't stop him, but I'm even more disappointed in you for not trying, Major!"

Legretta's jaw set with fatalistic determination. "Then I won't hold back any longer. I truly regret that it had to come to this, Tear!"

Arietta, meanwhile, rushed forward several steps the moment she saw Ion and Anise. "Fon Master... don't get in the way!" she shouted.

Ion looked tortured. "Arietta, I..."

But whatever he had to say, it was cut off when Anise hurried in front of him. "Fon Master, there's no reason to tell stupid Arietta!" she declared.

Largo and Legretta shot each other a glance as the Fon Master and his Guardian murmured something to each other. So, the fact that Ion was a replica had come out. Legretta imagined it had come out the same time they'd learned that Sync was one too. Largo meanwhile was silently grateful to Anise for suppressing that information. If Arietta found out...

Well, if Arietta found out, throwing their ranks into disarray would be the least of their worries.

"Largo, I heard about your child," Natalia called, yanking the Black Lion's attention over to her in an instant. "It was a sad story, but it doesn't excuse your attempts to destroy the Outer Lands!"

Shock rippled through Largo and made his eyes widen. A second later, his jaw set. He'd expected better from Sync, but no one else could have told her the truth. "So. You know, then."

"Yes."

He shut his eyes. "I didn't expect you would agree with what I've done."

"Who could? You should stop this foolishness at once! What would your child say if she were alive now?"

Largo paused. "...What?"

"It must have been heartrending to outlive your child, and I sympathize, but that's no reason to massacre the people of this world!" his daughter insisted.

He stared at her for a second. Then he snorted with humorless laughter.

"What's so funny?!" Natalia demanded, nocking an arrow.

"Oh, nothing. It's just that it seems both of us misunderstood the situation," he replied. That must have been Sync's doing... Largo could just picture him snickering over feeding Natalia misinformation. He swung his scythe around to grip in both hands. "Why don't you run back to your castle where you belong, Princess?"

Natalia drew back. "I belong right here, fighting to protect my country, my friends - and my father!"

Largo's smile was grim, but he stood his ground. "How little you understand, Princess Natalia. Then we'll have to drive you back by force!"

His words were like the flag signaling the start of a race. The God-Generals were outnumbered, but uneven numbers had never been a deterrent for them. Natalia loosed her arrow at the same instant that Largo slashed his scythe forward. Guy had rushed forward to meet the old soldier with a diagonal upwards cut, and the same attack that charged Largo's weapon through Natalia's arrow also stopped Guy's slash in its tracks. With a roar, Largo pressed his weight forward and forced Guy back. Guy didn't make it easy for him, though. He struggled against the taller man's height and weight advantage, and was rewarded for his efforts when Natalia completed her support arte.

"Brace yourself, Largo! _Scare Shot_!" she called. Seventh Fonons seeped darkly down on the Black Lion, weakening his armor. However, before Guy could take advantage, Largo smashed him into the snow. Guy grunted in pain, but managed to flip back upright before Largo thrust the hook of his scythe down where Guy's chest had been a second ago.

Undaunted, Largo turned his ponderous but powerful attack into an arte. "Beast!" he roared, shoving his shoulder forward and sweeping his scythe up. A mass of fonons in the shape of a lion's head burst out from it, and the arte smashed into Guy and sent him hurtling back. With the swordsman out of the way for the moment, Largo turned a scowl over to Natalia as she nocked several more arrows.

Legretta meanwhile had opened fire on Jade with both barrels. Jade in turn had summoned his spear and focused on deflecting the fonon bullets without any particular change in his calm expression. Tear swooped out from behind him and swung three of her knives at Legretta, shouting, "Nocturnal Light!"

The first swiped Legretta's right arm, but the other two clanged into her gun as she used it to defend herself. In the second that her assault lightened, Jade pressed the advantage by charging a Sonic Spear forward, wrist snapping into a thrust aimed at her stomach. It struck Legretta, but she jumped back at the last second, mitigating the wound. When she landed, she put both Jade and Tear in her sights.

"Searing Sorrow!" she roared, snapping one arm up. A huge orb of molten Fifth Fonons coalesced over the muzzle of her gun, and when she swung her arm down, it crashed down to the other two soldiers. Both of them moved to dodge, but neither of them managed to get completely out of the way in time and suffered burns for their failure as the snow beneath them melted.

It re-froze in an instant once the arte dissipated, but rather than keep up the attack on Tear and Jade as they hurried to get back to their feet, Legretta aimed her guns towards Luke, who was chasing Arietta. Both barrels glowed brilliantly with fonic power, and she unleashed a powerful beam at him as she shouted, "Rage Laser!"

Luke never saw it coming. It hit him dead-on and sent him flying. Anise, who'd been supporting him with her fonic artes, brought Tokunaga rumbling over to his side. At the same time, though, Arietta flipped on the two of them, fingers digging wrathfully into her doll as a glyph formed under her feet and purple fonons began to fly up around her.

"I'll never forgive you! Either of you!" she shouted as she cast. "I'll kill both of you here!" She thrust her doll forward as the arte completed. "_Negative Gate_!"

For a second, it seemed like nothing happened. Then a bed of First Fonons surged up from the ground beneath Luke and Anise, and above them, they joined together and materialized a darkly luminescent orb. Violet streams of fonons orbited it, swirling and seething and tearing into Arietta's enemies.

"Arietta, please stop it!" Ion called desperately to no avail from the fringes of the battlefield, up against the inner edge of the ledge on which his friends fought. He didn't know if Arietta hadn't heard him or if she simply didn't care, but it was the same in the end. As always, he was powerless to help.

Tokunaga struggled to its feet, and Anise lifted her head from atop of it. "D-don't worry, Ion! I'm not gonna lose to stupid Gloomietta!" she yelled. She balanced one knee on Tokunaga's head and began to focus, Sixth Fonons shining up around her.

"Don't call me Gloomietta!" Arietta shrieked, beginning another arte.

"Oh crap, not again!" Luke jumped up to his feet. He held out his right hand in front of her and a mass of fonons collected in his palm. "Get out of here!" he shouted, then shot the Raging Blast off, knocking Arietta off her feet and back several feet into the snow, where she let out a squeal of pain.

"Anise, cover us!" Jade called.

Anise grinned, and by way of response, chanted, "Feel the hammer of light! _Limited_!"

A glyph appeared at Legretta's feet. She immediately dove into a rolling crouch to one side, but the glyph followed her, and the beam of light slammed down just as she began to rose. She grunted in pain and sank to one foot momentarily. Jade was on her immediately, sweeping his spear in an upwards arc across her armor.

"Thunder Lance!" he called, bringing down a bolt of lightning upon her. She snarled, unable to dodge, but recovered swiftly and swept a foot around in a kick to wreck Jade's balance. It worked, and she sprang to her feet and leapt back several feet to resume fire.

But Legretta had been delayed long enough. At Jade's back, Tear had taken advantage of the breathing space she'd been given to fold her arms over her chest and sing, "_Va rei ze tue, neu tue riou tue croa..._"

Holy Song, the third Yulian hymn, resonated across the mountainside. The sound of her voice carried with it the power of the Third and Seventh Fonons in an expanding circle of feathery motes of light. Where it passed her allies, it knitted some of their wounds and bolstered their strength and defense.

Such was the power of Yulia's hymns: the battle turned then. Natalia unleashed a hail of arrows onto Largo, and while he attempted to defend himself, Guy rushed in and slammed him with a Beast arte of his own. Largo remained on his feet and swept his scythe in an arc around him in a Blazing Talon, unleashing a ring of fiery Fifth Fonons, but Guy backflipped out of the way and Natalia, who continued to unleash a stream of arrows, was out of range. Between her distance attacks and Guy's speed, they began to put Largo on the defensive.

Legretta remained too swift to pin down, but Tear and Jade managed to deal with her by taking her on in a line, with the one in front attacking directly with strike artes and the one behind casting a fonic arte. When one became too injured from taking on Legretta's attacks, Tear slipped to the back and healed them both with a Healing Circle, giving them the lasting power needed to deal with Legretta's rain of fonic bullets.

Arietta was in trouble. As fonists went, she was powerful, but she had little way to effectively fight a swordsman like Luke and kept having to avoid his attacks and stupid Anise's fonic artes, which prevented her from starting to cast her own. Legretta supported her with a few shots where she could spare them, but it filled the young God-General with rage and frustration that her revenge remained so far out of reach, even with her enemies right in front of her.

"Stop picking on me!" she shouted as she hurried out of the way of Anise's Negative Gate. "I'm going to kill you!"

"What're you talking about, Gloomietta?!" Anise yelled back. "You're the ones who picked this fight with us!"

"That's because you're hurting Ion! You keep putting him in danger!"

"Where the hell do you get off, telling us that?!" Luke demanded, sweeping his sword at Arietta. She shrieked, but her armor protected her as she staggered back. "What d'you think you God-Generals have been doing?!"

"Shut up!" Arietta thrust out her doll, fonons searing up around her. "Just die, die, die, _die_!"

But then Anise brought her giant doll lumbering over and had it smash its arms into her in a flying wheel, then leap up and wallop her with the force of its descent. At the same time, Luke thrust his blade at her and channeled electric Third Fonons through it and into her. Arietta cried out in pain, then dropped to the ground, where the snow broke her fall. In that instant, she stared up at her enemies - the one who stole her beloved Ion from her, the one who murdered her mommy - and understood that they weren't going to stop attacking, that they wouldn't give her the chance to fight. Her heart stilled a beat as she stared up at Anise and Luke, raising their weapons to beat her down.

But then she heard Ion call, "Luke! Anise! Watch out!"

They turned around at the same time someone shouted, "_Turbulence_!"

An instant later, a green whirlwind of Third Fonons howled up and ripped into and around them, yet left Arietta untouched. Anise and Luke dropped slumped to the ground a moment later, leaving Arietta bewildered at this sudden turn. She saw a dark shape on the path that led to the ledge, but before she could focus on it, it ducked down and started sprinting for Anise.

"Anise, behind you!" Ion shouted, tearing into Arietta's heart again.

That hateful doll she rode sprang up and spun around, arms whipping around like bludgeons. The dark shape leapt up and avoided them, kicked off of the doll's head and sprang into the air, twirled twice and then landed on its feet - right between Anise and Arietta.

Arietta pushed herself upright with one arm, her own doll clutched under the other, staring at the newcomer with wide eyes.

"What the -" Luke uttered, staring at him with clear astonishment. "How did you -"

"Reaper's Toll!" the newcomer shouted, cutting him off with an open-palm right-handed strike that used fonons to send him flying, just like Luke had done to Arietta only minutes ago.

"What are you _doing_ here?!" Anise cried, gaping at him.

Arietta stared at him, too, because she knew the person who'd come to her aid. She couldn't see his face with his back to her, but that didn't matter, because she'd never seen his face anyway. She didn't know the spotted handkerchief that bandaged his left hand, but she knew his black coat and his martial artes.

"Arietta, get back!" he ordered without turning away from the enemy.

Arietta got to her feet, staring at him for a second more. Then her shorn eyebrows knitted in determination as she retreated a step but didn't fall back.

"I'm fighting too," she shouted, "Sync!"


	16. Time to Burn

The morning after Sync's personal crisis, they arrived at the Sylvana continent. Anise got up early to prepare a couple days's worth of sandwiches for one. She didn't think they'd take _that_ long to unlock the Daathic seal at the Mt. Roneal Sephiroth, but considering how bad off Sync had been just yesterday, she wanted to make sure he at least had plenty to eat while they were gone. She was nervous about leaving him alone for that long, but... he seemed better now, so it'd be all right, right? Tear even told her he'd specifically requested her, something that pleased her more than a little.

Even so, when she entered Sync's cell, she was relieved to see him already up, reading at his table, and actually acknowledge her arrival by looking up. He even put down his book, which he'd been holding in one hand, and stood up. His hair looked a little damp, and the sheets on his cot were in a disarray. Anise wondered if he'd just gotten up, but he looked too sweaty for that; it was pretty chilly in his room.

"G'morning, Sync!" she chirped all the same, stuffing the key ring into Tokunaga's little pack to get it out of the way. She set down the pack of sandwiches and large thermos of ice water she'd brought for him on the table. "I'm about to head out again soon with the others. We won't be back for a bit, so I brought you this so you'll have plenty to eat and drink, just in case."

He glanced down at the plate, then rested a hand on his hip and turned towards the window. "...I appreciate it."

Anise blinked. If she wasn't mistaken, he looked a little red in the face. She'd been about to ask him how he was feeling and what he wanted to ask her, but instead, she walked around the table to get a better look. He turned his head away. "Sync, are you okay? You're not coming down with something after all, are you? You look kinda feverish..."

He shook his head. "No, I'm fine. I just was exercising earlier and I haven't cooled down all the way yet."

"That's good! Tear and I were worried about you enough with what happened yesterday. She'll be happy to know you're not getting sick for real."

He took a deep breath, then stared out at the falling snow. "...Hey, Anise?"

She planted her fists on her hips. "What's up?"

"I just... wanted to thank you for yesterday," he murmured. "For, uh. For telling me I could cook for myself."

Anise grinned, half amused, half bemused. "What, that? That was no big deal!"

"Maybe not for you..."

She waited for a moment, but he didn't continue. In spite of the situation, she laughed. "Oooh, are you gonna tell me you've fallen for me? My cuteness claims another hapless victim! But I should let you know, my heart already belongs to someone else!"

He shot her an annoyed look, then sighed. "I know. Fon Master Ion, right?"

She choked and felt her face flame red hot. "I-I-Ion?! N-no! Nononono_no_. Not at all! Wh-why would you even think that?!"

He stared at her, puzzled. "No? Huh." He paused. "So then who _do_ you like?"

Anise slid her eyes away and muttered, "When I find someone rich and available and not totally dumb, I'll let you know."

"What was that?"

"Nothing~! I-I mean, it's a secret," she trilled. "But this isn't about me, this is about you! All joking aside, what're you thanking me for all of a sudden?"

He sucked in a long breath, then heaved it out. "I just wanted you to know I... uh..." He scratched his cheek, still not meeting her eyes. "I... guess... you're not so bad after all."

Anise smirked and planted her fists on her hips. "Wow. You sure don't know how to talk to girls, do you, Sync?"

He scowled at her. "I can't help it. The only girl I've spent any time with before is Arietta."

"Gloomietta, huh? No wonder you're such a mess." She grinned at the annoyance that flashed across his expression. "But thanks! You're not so bad after all too, Sync." She turned and pointed at the package she'd brought. "Now, I was about to say earlier - me and everyone are about to head to Keterburg, and we'll probably be away for a little while, so I brought you enough for the next few meals. Sorry it's nothing special, but it should keep as long as you keep it wrapped up. It's a little chilly in here, so d'you want me to bring you an extra blanket?"

Sync sobered. "So you're here for the last Sephiroth."

Anise hesitated. "Well... yeah," she admitted. "Just hang in there, okay, Sync? We should hopefully be back by tomorrow - maybe sooner if everything goes okay. Soon it'll be all over and you won't have to stay in this crummy cell anymore."

He smiled faintly. "I'm looking forward to it."

She beamed at him. "So, blanket? No blanket?"

"I'm fine. But, uh..." He started studying a far corner of the room. "...can I ask... for something else?"

She blinked at him. "What is it?"

"...don't read too much into it, okay?"

Anise made a face. "Just spit it out already, Sync."

He made an annoyed noise in his throat, red creeping deeper into his face. "...Is it okay if I hug you?"

Anise opened her mouth. Then her brain caught up with her mouth and she sputtered. "You - _what_?"

"Ugh. I knew you'd make a big deal out of it."

"No, I just - I'm surprised!" she squealed, dropping her hands. "You hated it so much before!"

He glanced at her, then looked away again. "...That's because you grabbed me all of a sudden."

"Oh, well, uh... I mean, if you want to, I don't mind..."

Anise trailed off, pole-axed. Before she could get her thoughts in order, Sync was coming closer, and it struck her all over again how much he really did look like Ion, and then his arms were slipping around her. She fell against his chest, certain that he'd be able to feel the hammer of her heart, and he pulled her in, right arm light on her back, left caressing her waist - _wait_, **not** caressing (as she told herself fiercely), just kind of settling there before he held tight, otherwise it sounded romantic and that was just weird. She let him hug her for a second, then started to fidget. He needed a real shower, not just the toweling-off they let him give himself with soapy water at the end of each day. She wondered if she should return the hug or push him away.

"Your hair smells nice," he murmured in that moment, face near-buried in her shoulder, voice sounding just like Ion's. "Like strawberries."

If ears could shoot steam, Anise felt certain hers would have just then. Making up her mind, she slipped her arms around him and held him back. It was a lot different from hugging Ion; he was so soft, and Sync was lean and muscular. She didn't know what to think about that juxtaposition, but she didn't think she disliked it. That confused her more than anything.

He pulled back a moment later and turned away. Anise couldn't face him either; her eyes were rooted to the floor. For several long seconds, neither of them said anything.

"...Thanks," Sync finally murmured.

"Wh-what? O-oh, it was nothing, haha!" Anise stammered, shaking her head. "I mean, it was just a hug, no big -" She cut herself off with a gasp. "Sync, what happened to your hand?!"

He flinched, half-facing her. "What?"

She pointed to his left hand. "That!"

Said hand was swollen and covered in an ugly purple bruise, which went all the way to his thumb and nearly to his manacle. He lifted it up, grimacing. "Oh. This." He nodded towards the table. "I smacked it into that thing while I was doing exercises. There really isn't a lot of room in here."

"You must've smacked it really hard! It looks awful!"

"It's no big deal. Don't you have to leave with your friends soon?"

"Well, yeah, but - oh, I can't believe you. Stay right there, okay? I'll be right back with a first aid kit!"

She rushed out before he could say a word, privately glad for the distraction. He watched her go, then sat back down and reached for his coat's inner pocket. When she returned, he'd laid his injured hand out on the table, which made it easy for her to wrap it up with the wooden splint and bandage roll she pulled from the kit. When she was done, her hand lingered on his. She bit her lip.

"Does that feel any better?" she asked quietly. "It's not too tight, is it?"

"Yeah, a little," he murmured. "It's not too tight."

She looked up and made the mistake of meeting his eyes. Her skin tingled and she jerked away from him, feeling flushed and oddly guilty. "A-anyway, I'm surprised you can put up with that. It must hurt like hell!"

"It does, yeah," he admitted. "But I'm used to pain."

"That's no good!" she insisted. "I better get Tear in here to heal you."

He quirked a dubious eyebrow. "Why didn't you just do that in the first place?"

Anise opened her mouth, then closed it. Sync half-smiled and started snickering.

"Oh, shut it!" she grumbled, turning away and slamming her hands on her hips. When she did, she heard something jangle at her feet, and looked down to see the key ring.

_Whoops! It must've fell off Tokunaga just now,_ she thought as she picked it up. Something seemed a little off, though.

"Hey, Anise!" Luke's voice called. Distracted, she stood up and turned to see him at the doorway. "Is everything okay? Everyone's outside - we gotta get going. Hey, Sync."

"Hey."

"Ooh, good timing, Luke!" Anise cheered, deciding to just hook the key ring around her wrist. "Do you have the item bag on you? Sync hurt his hand pretty bad, and he could use an apple gel or something."

"Oh wow, really?" Luke gave Sync a concerned look as he rummaged in his pocket. "What happened?"

"I got a little careless and knocked my hand on the table while exercising last night. It's not as bad as Anise makes it sound," he replied. All the same, when Luke held out an apple gel, he accepted and ate it.

"Oh, c'mon, Sync," Anise chided him. "Not that I'm a doctor or anything, but that swelling didn't look normal. You might've cracked something. At least be careful, okay?"

"Is it really that bad? Should I get Tear?" Luke wondered.

"Didn't you _just_ say you had to get going?" Sync said.

"Well, yeah, but Tear wouldn't mind coming back for you."

He turned pink and hesitated. Then he shook his head and sighed. "The Necromancer dislikes me enough as it is. The pain's already starting to fade thanks to the gel; if it's still bad later, Tear can look at it then. I'm not here to be a burden."

Luke looked dubious but nodded. "Okay, if you say so. C'mon, Anise."

"Okay, okay. One last thing," she said, pulling out a polka-dotted pink handkerchief from her pocket. She wrapped it loosely over Sync's bandage and tied a bow on top. She beamed at the nonplussed look on his face. "There you go! Just a little something to cheer you up."

"_That's_ supposed to cheer him up?" Luke said dryly.

"Yeah, it's just a handkerchief," Sync said.

"Boo! So take it off if you don't like it!"

He pulled his hand back and looked back out the window. "...It's fine. Now get going already."

"Okay, okay. Shove us out the room, why don't you," she said dryly.

She and Luke left together, and she locked the doors behind them. Before she shut the outer door, she let her eyes linger on Sync, who was still turned away. Then she puffed out a breath and did what needed to be done.

Once they were on their way to the airship hatch, Luke elbowed her, grinning, and remarked, "So I think he likes you, Anise."

Anise choked, then covered it up by balling her hands under her chin and turning doe-eyes on the duke's son. "Oooh? Are you jealous, Luke?" she trilled.

"Hell no!"

She giggled, and a bounce entered her step. Sync probably didn't _like_ her like her, but it was a nice ego boost to think of if he did. He wasn't her type (absolutely, definitely, no way in hell he could be her type, she reassured herself), but the way he got all shy and awkward and asked for a hug... She had to admit it was cute.

_Maybe you're a good kid after all, Sync,_ she thought, almost skipping off the Albiore to meet up with Ion and the others.

* * *

Sync waited several minutes longer than he had to to make absolute sure no one was coming back. When he was sure he was in the clear, he reached again into his coat pocket and pulled out the key ring he'd replicated with an arte while Anise had gotten the first aid kit. He'd filched the original ring from her during their hug, and she'd never noticed.

"Sucker," he hissed, eyes sharp on the door.

He didn't make his move immediately, though. Anise had kindly brought him plenty to eat and drink, and he took his time to fill up and pack what remained for the journey ahead. His broken hand still ached, even after eating that apple gel, but it was in better shape. Better than last night, certainly, when he'd broken it with the sharpening rod he'd stolen from the kitchen, and definitely better than when he'd twisted the manacle, still wet underneath with soapy water, off his hand.

Back then, he could _feel_ his broken bones moving out of alignment, and he couldn't help screaming in pain. Good thing he'd tied the sheets around his mouth beforehand to muffle said screams. The sensation of all his fon slots opening again had been refreshing enough to almost make him forget the pain.

Even better was when he'd found the Dark Seal attached to the underside of the manacle. He'd realized immediately from the markings that that was the source of his sealed artes, and made the decision to tear it off and put the manacle back on. It was a close thing; his hand had already turned unhealthy colors, and he hadn't budgeted for time to put the manacle back on before it started swelling. He managed, though, and it worked out beautifully.

Except for when he wrenched his misaligned bones back into place. Sync had figured he would use a First Aid, his only healing arte, to fix his hand once he was done, but the pain had crashed over him like a tsunami and made him pass out. Even when he came to around dawn, he found that a mere First Aid wasn't enough to mend a broken bone, no matter how many times he cast it. It at least had taken care of the abrasions and some of the swelling and bruises - as bad as Anise thought his hand looked, it was much worse before - but he'd need a real Healer or doctor to look at his hand before it'd be back in full fighting condition.

Sync swallowed the last of his sandwich. Anise's cooking was as delicious as ever. His gaze rested on the spotted handkerchief, and his thoughts returned to the way she'd held his hand as she'd rolled bandages around it.

_ Tear wouldn't mind coming back for you,_ Luke had said too, and he'd probably been right. Sync let his thumb stroke the cloth for a moment before he shook his head and stood up.

"Forget about it," he told himself aloud to make the words real. "It's already too late."

* * *

Though the Albiore was probably empty, Sync kept his footfalls silent and cautious just in case as he searched the airship - more specifically, the cockpit and the engine room, the only places he'd never been - for his equipment. It turned out to be a good idea. The cockpit had been empty, either of people or of what he sought, but he found Noelle in the engine room, legs poking out from a piece of machinery as she tinkered underneath. Various tools were scattered around her in an order that probably only made sense to her. He watched for several seconds before scanning the room and spotting a closed box just beyond her.

He weighed his options. It would be simple enough to kill her and move on; even without armor or weapons, Noelle was just a civilian. Hell, even if his artes had still been sealed, he probably could take her out no problem. But...

"Ooh, so _this_ is what's been making that whining noise!" he heard her say from under the machinery. She poked a hand out, grabbed some kind of wrench, and withdrew them both.

...was there really a point in killing her? Sync had no attachment or affection for the Albiore's pilot, and he had no problem with murdering anyone who got in his way. It was just... she was barely even _in_ his way, wasn't she?

He thought of those who'd sat with him yesterday, felt the handkerchief on his hand.

_I'll leave her alone,_ he decided. _As a favor._

He snuck past Noelle and reached the box without any problems. As he'd hoped, his combat gloves, boots, and armor were inside. He took them with him, silently shutting the door behind him, and brought them back to his cell. It was difficult to take off his coat, equip his armor, and pull his coat back on again one-handed, but he managed. There was no way he'd be able to get his left glove over his swollen hand, though, and he didn't even try. The right one fit as well as he remembered, though, and once he had his boots on, he finally felt back in form.

It was less satisfying than he'd imagined.

* * *

By the time Sync snuck out of the Albiore, the persistent Sylvanan snowfall had softened the footsteps of his targets into shallow depressions. He wasn't too concerned. He needed to be a fair distance behind them to avoid being seen, anyway, and he already knew where they were going. He shadowed the streets of Keterburg and made it to the gateway leading towards Mt. Roneal in the northernmost park.

To his surprise, when he reached the fence, he spotted Ion's group about a hundred yards ahead. He hadn't spotted them at all before he reached Keterburg, so they must have stopped for something while they were in town, giving him time to catch up. Last-minute supplies? He had no way of knowing for sure. That bothered him, but it didn't particularly matter. Since there was only one Sephiroth left, at least one and probably several of the God-Generals would be lying in wait to take out Ion's group. All Sync had to do was follow them until the two groups engaged, then jump in for a pincer attack.

As he watched the group grow ever more distant, he touched his face, gloved fingers tracing its contours. He'd never been without his mask once upon a time, and now he'd actually gotten used to not wearing one. It felt strange to him to think how quickly that had happened - so quickly he only noticed in retrospect. The thought of rejoining the God-Generals without it made him uncomfortable, but he couldn't exactly waltz into a local mask shop to buy a new one.

Well, not like his comfort had ever mattered. Whatever actually important issues arose, he'd have to deal with them on the fly. Sync dropped his hand, made sure the children playing in the park weren't paying attention, and slipped out the gates to the north to resume the pursuit.

* * *

Past Keterburg was open, snowy fields and patchy evergreen forests - not much different from the south, so Sync still had to deal with little to no cover. Sylvana was a mountainous continent, and he knew from what he'd studied of world maps that Mt. Roneal was to the northwest. He passed the sea inlet to the north and followed the mountain range to the west, keeping Ion's group just in sight. They didn't make any suspicious pauses or stops so he probably hadn't been noticed, but he kept his body low to the ground just in case.

By the time he reached the path to Mt. Roneal, Ion's group was out of sight. Sync stared up it; he'd managed to evade monsters so far, but he'd probably have more trouble going forward. He could already see ice wolves stalking about and glasrudas gliding lazily through the air. He'd have to be careful. Much as he could stand to get back into form by actually killing something, he didn't want to risk Ion's group noticing him. It wasn't much of a surprise attack if you telegraphed your position.

He spotted the upward trail and made his way through it. Eventually, it took him to the Sephiroth, which surprised him until he remembered that this one was functionally in pieces. There were plenty of monsters inside, too. He avoided those and made his way to the other side, which opened again into a snowy mountain path.

From there, he could hear the sounds of clashing blades and exploding artes on the wind. He sped up, following his ears.

The resonance of a fonic hymn spread out as he drew close. Sync peeked up on the outcrop where the battle was taking place to assess the situation, and he saw an instant of Largo, Legretta and Arietta pushing hard against two-on-one odds before Ion's group started to push back. Largo held up a strong defense against Guy with Natalia supporting him from a distance, while Tear and the Necromancer tag-teamed Legretta with strike and fonic artes. Arietta was the worst off; Luke chased her so she couldn't use her fonic artes, and when she managed to start, Anise interrupted her with her own. By all appearances, the God-Generals looked to be at a disadvantage, but Sync could tell Largo and Legretta were still fine. Once Tear's hymn wore off, they'd begin their assault again.

Arietta was another story. She always fought with her friends, who protected her while she used her artes, but her ligers were nowhere in sight. With Largo and Legretta caught up in their own battles, there was no one to cover her as she unleashed her artes. Sync hated the way his gut twisted at the sight, hated the way he hesitated nonetheless.

But what he hated most of all was that, when he noticed Ion hanging on the sidelines, Ion noticed him back.

The two of them stared at each other. Sync could see the questions in the other replica's eyes, the shock and confusion. A beat passed, and another, and nothing happened. He wondered if Ion wouldn't give away his position.

Then Sync heard Arietta scream, and jerked his head over to see her on the ground and Luke and Anise charging in to finish her off. In an instant, almost before he had consciously considered it, he made his decision, and held up his good hand as he channeled Third Fonons into a fon verse.

Even before he completed the arte, it was exhilarating. The fonons sang through his fon slots, along his skin, and into his blood. It'd been so long since he'd controlled and directed this power, he'd forgotten how _good_ it felt.

_ Might as well feel good about something,_ he thought as Ion shouted a warning. Sync flipped his hand around.

"Howl, o raging winds! _Turbulence_!" he shouted.

The green tornado whirled into existence, battering into Luke and Anise but leaving Arietta untouched. Sync would have to be fast if he wanted to avoid letting his compatriot see his face, and he ducked down and started racing towards Anise.

"Anise, behind you!" Ion shouted, giving Anise time to swing Tokunaga around, slashing arms through the air. Her lumbering doll, though powerful, practically moved in slow motion compared to Sync, and he leapt just in time to avoid them. He landed on Tokunaga's head, exchanged stares with Anise for a split-second, then sprung off, used his momentum to twist in midair, and then landed with his right hand down for balance between Arietta and her enemies.

Luke had stood up by then, and while he was still reeling with shock, Sync struck him with an open-palm strike arte and used fonons to blow him back.

"What are you _doing_ here?!" Anise demanded, and Sync became suddenly, keenly aware that he'd forgotten to get rid of her handkerchief.

Too late for that too. Sync set his jaw, then called without looking behind him, "Arietta, get back!"

"I'm fighting too, Sync!" she called back.

"Sync?!" he heard both Legretta and Tear utter from the other side of the battlefield. Ambivalence overtook him for a heartbeat; then he shook his head. He came here to fight, to settle everything once and for all. If battling until his life gave out was the only way to make his wish come true, then he'd struggle to the bitter end. He had to, or what did any of it mean?

"Then stay behind me!" he barked, then charged at Luke for their last confrontation.


	17. Dancer in the Dark

Ion sucked in a desperate breath as Sync lashed a series of kicks up Luke's body, first at his knees, then at his gut, and finally at his chest. Luke blocked them as best he could, but the last one got through his defenses and make him choke from the force. He reacted by swiping at Sync with his sword, but it turned out to be a feint to mask an uppercut with his right fist.

The blow knocked Sync on the side of his face, but he grit his teeth and bore it before ducking into a leg sweep. It caught Luke by surprise, but not so much that he didn't manage to recover and flip back onto his feet when he fell. Ion winced as once again his fellow replicas clashed. He had no idea how Sync had made it here, but the worst part was that there was nothing he could do to stop him.

Behind and in front of them, Arietta and Anise were casting fonic artes, but Arietta was quicker; her Negative Gate opened up on top of Anise, seething with First Fonons.

"Anise!" Ion called, clasping his hands. "Are you all right?!"

"I-I'm fine, Ion!" she called back, getting her puppet back to its feet.

"Why?! Why didn't you ask if _I_ was all right, Ion?!" Arietta demanded tearfully. "They were hurting me and you didn't say a thing!"

Ion flinched, but, not knowing what to say, said nothing. Sync meanwhile overheard and ground his teeth together. Luke caught sight of his opponent as he faced him again and hesitated.

"Sync," he said, "are you worried about -"

"Shut up!" he barked. "Don't talk about someone else when you're on the battlefield!"

Arietta squeaked, even though it hadn't been directed at her, but she must have taken it to heart all the same because she began to cast another arte. Anise forewent countering with her own fonic arte and started lumbering towards her. Sync shot her a glance, then rolled to the left, wincing as even tucked in for its protection his broken hand groaned in pain. When he rose in front of Anise, he called fonons into his good fist and struck it palm-first into her. "Reaper's Toll!" he shouted.

It blew her back several feet, leaving her and her doll sprawled out. "Oh, come on!" Anise complained, shaking a fist.

Luke followed Sync and slashed at him. Sync called up a fonic barrier with his good hand to block it, and Luke responded by kicking him in the hip. Sync grunted, but in that moment, Arietta called out, "_Bloody Howling_!"

Purple First Fonons bloomed out from underneath Sync and Luke, then shrieked upwards in unrelenting waves. Sync was untouched thanks to friend-or-foe marking, but Luke screamed in pain as it lifted him. The Tempest seized the opportunity to kick up his body again, finishing with a powerful uppercut and a shout of, "Dragon Shot!"

Luke landed hard, bleeding from several blunt force wounds, and Anise charged in. Sync turned to face her, still keeping his back to Arietta, but he realized her intent only once she stepped into the Field Of Fonons that the Bloody Howling arte had left behind. He swept a side kick at Tokunaga's midsection, but it didn't stop Anise from drawing in the First Fonons, converting them into Second as her doll's fist glowed, and then rocketing him into the air with a massive uppercut followed by drags of stone and a shout of, "Stone Dragon Ascent!"

Sync flew into the air, but righted himself using a fonic barrier as a base and landed on his feet again with his back to Arietta. Sweat beaded his face despite the cold, though, and his breathing had become hard. Had he started from perfect health, taking that attack wouldn't have been _so_ bad, but the pain of his broken hand was getting impossible to ignore. It was just like Anise to use his own attacks on him.

"Sync, you've gotta stop this!" Luke called, panting from his injuries too. "Why would you fight when your hand's hurt so bad?!"

"Don't be an idiot," he snapped back, steadying his stance. "I broke it myself to get that damn manacle off. I knew exactly what I was getting myself into!"

Legretta leapt back from Jade and unleashed a successive stream of fonic bullets at him. He parried the first few, but the rest got past his defenses and struck hard on his torso, leaving him momentarily dazed. In that instant, she glanced over at Sync. _So that's how he managed,_ she thought, finding herself impressed. _The Commandant was right to put his faith in him. He really _did_ figure out what he wanted._

But she kept those thoughts to herself and refocused on her fight, so Sync never heard.

"Sync, you little shit!" Anise yelled. "How'd you even get out?! I _know_ I locked those doors!"

"You sure did," Sync called back, and pulled out the key ring he'd replicated. "I just made myself a spare." He tossed it into the snow at her feet. "You really ought to be more suspicious of others."

Her mouth dropped in realization. Then her face turned purple-red. "I can't _believe_ you! I _trusted_ you! I thought you were a good kid after all!" she seethed.

Behind her, Ion looked away.

Largo overheard and shouted as his scythe locked with Guy's sword, "You trusted an enemy? That's poor judgment, Anise!"

"You're so stupid, Anise!" Arietta yelled in agreement as Largo focused back on his fight and shoulder-checked his foe.

_Yeah,_ Sync thought, but without enthusiasm. He didn't trust himself to say it.

Luke roared and ran up to him, swinging his blade into a downward slice as he came. Sync blocked it with another barrier, but the angle put him on the defensive - he needed his feet to maintain his stance, and his free hand was no good for a counterattack. Luke pressed down with both arms, expression somewhere between fury and hurt.

"Anise isn't stupid!" he yelled. "She was worried about you! _We_ were worried about you! All of us! We were starting to get along! Were you faking that the whole time?!"

_Yup._

That's what Sync knew he should have said. It's what he should have felt. It should have been the brutally honest answer, right down to his core.

But it wasn't. Sync grimaced and said nothing. He couldn't say a thing.

Luke must have seen that on his face - seen something, anyway. Some of the anger drained, and he eased up a little bit. Sync probably could have taken advantage, but he hesitated.

That instant, Anise swung in at his left, entering from his blind spot. Sync widened his eyes, but he was unable to dodge as she shouted, "Shadow Punishment!" Her doll, at the same time, slammed a series of punches at his left side, spun around with arms extended, then hurled one last straight punch.

Trust Anise to go straight for the weak points. He instinctively raised his free arm to block, and when the first hit landed, pure agony clawed from his hand all the way to his shoulder. He screamed, and the last strike smacked him into the ground, where he ended up half-buried in snow. He sucked a breath through his teeth as his hand throbbed so bad he thought he might puke. His right hand pressed down as he pushed himself partway up, and next to him, Luke stepped back half a step. Anise wasn't nearly so merciful, and Tokunaga raised another plush fist.

"_Limited_!" rang out Arietta's voice. A ring of light formed under Anise's feet, and she and Luke had to leap backwards before the beam of light struck them down. Sync seized the moment to initiate another fonic arte instead of stand.

"O roar of the earth!" he chanted, then whirled around to sight where he'd unleash it. "_Ground Dasher_!"

His aim was bad, or maybe he'd judged the distance wrongly. Rather than hitting Anise and Luke, the Ground Dasher triggered several yards behind them. Sync held his breath; it was right where Tear and the Necromancer were fighting Legretta. Massive stone barbs slashed up from underneath the three. Legretta was unaffected and the Necromancer leapt backwards out of range just in time, the bastard, but the so-called fangs of the dragon raked into Tear.

Sync made a strangled noise as he watched her scream and crash to the ground. Luke yelled her name, shot Sync a look, and then took off towards her as a field of Second Fonons bloomed in the Ground Dasher's wake. When Arietta started to cast another arte of her own, Anise charged towards her, swinging Tokunaga's arms viciously to keep her from finishing.

Jade and Legretta meanwhile locked eyes and stepped into the FOF circle simultaneously. The golden-brown fonons swept towards each of them as they both started casting an arte. Legretta, being the quicker caster, was certain she'd finish first and call down a Cluster Raid on top of his head before he could utter even a single word.

But Luke arrived just in time to slash her three times and then channel his strength into a Sonic Thrust at her gut. She grunted in pain as it pounded against her armor, interrupting her fonic arte. In response, she leapt backwards and pointed her guns at Jade. She fired from both, one by one by one, just as he completed his arte. At first nothing happened, and Legretta thought at first she'd gotten him in time after all; then a black dome materialized further up the mountain, where the snow was densest, and crackled with gravitational energy.

Jade staggered under the force of Legretta's attack, but rather than defend himself, he shot Tear, now back on her feet, a meaningful look. Tear's eyes widened with understanding.

As the thick sheets of snow cracked and groaned, she shouted, "Everyone! To me! Hurry!" Then, before the avalanche began its unstoppable descent, she began to sing.

"_Croa riou ze tue -_"

"Tear!" Legretta snarled, pulling a gun on her. Before she could fire, though, a blow from behind, just below her ribs, knocked the air out of her. She turned back to see an arrow in her back and Princess Natalia nocking another to add to it even as she ran to Tear's side.

"_\- riou rei -_"

"Legretta!" Largo bellowed as Guy chased after her.

She made her decision in a split-second. "All forces, retreat!" she called, turning towards the ledge and sprinting as Tear's companions crowded around her. There was no way they'd outrun the avalanche, but if they could at least make it to cover...

"_\- neu..._"

Anise and Ion were the last ones in, the former pulling the latter by the wrist, as the faceted Force Field crystallized to the sound of the Second Hymn. Ion turned to see Arietta dragged off by Largo. Even then, she stretched out a hand to him. He couldn't hear her voice anymore over the roar of the impending snow, but he recognized his name on her lips when she cried out. As bad as he felt, he looked away from her to Sync, who was motionless. Ion's breath caught, and he reached out fruitlessly towards him.

"_Riou ze..._"

The final tone rang out, and the Force Field completed. Sync watched it from the other side of the ledge. He, too, saw Arietta, but she didn't notice him at all. Largo might have tried to catch his eye, but Sync didn't try to return it.

_No matter what I do, she only ever looks at 'Ion.'_

The avalanche, which had started out ponderous, now roared down. It struck Sync that had he not cast that Ground Dasher, the Necromancer wouldn't have cast that Gravity Well on the mountainside. He looked over at the Force Field and Ion's group within it just before the avalanche overtook it. Sync smiled bitterly, knowing he was next.

_ Haha... It's fine. I already knew I don't belong anywhere in this world._

The snow devoured Legretta, Largo, and Arietta before they could get to wherever they thought they could run to. Sync hadn't tried. There was no point. He shut his eyes before the avalanche slammed into him.

_ But... I..._

* * *

It was a while before the rumbling settled. Only the slightest hint of light peeked down from the zenith of the Force Field that protected them, but even after the tremors stilled, Ion found himself still shaking.

The crystalline barrier cracked and dissolved, and some of the snow from the avalanche fell in on the group. Luke sputtered as he dusted himself off, but everyone seemed all right, and there wasn't so much that they got buried. Mieu poked his head out of the item bag, then floated up around them.

"Is everyone okay?" he squeaked.

"Y-yeah, just fine," Luke said. "Wow, that was rough. Good thing you sang a hymn in time, Tear."

"I wouldn't have if I hadn't realized the Colonel's intentions," Tear replied. She glanced over at Jade. "I didn't expect you to trigger an avalanche on purpose."

"At the rate the battle was going, it was going to happen anyway," Jade replied. "Perhaps if Sync hadn't joined the fray, it might have been different, but..."

The group fell silent.

"Stupid Sync," Anise hissed. She stomped a foot. "Stupid, stupid, _stupid_ Sync! I can't _believe_ I fell for his trick!" She hung her head. "It's all my fault he showed up here."

"Don't beat yourself up, Anise," Guy reassured her. "The one who's in the wrong here is the one who did the tricking. It's not your fault at all."

Anise averted her eyes.

"I don't understand," Tear said quietly. "Why would he do this?"

"Given how many times he's declared himself our enemy, I should think the answer to that is obvious," Jade remarked blandly.

Tear bowed her head.

"Yeah... This whole time, he was just twisting us around," Anise muttered, clenching her fists. "That no-good, rotten, lying weasel. Let's just get to the Sephiroth and forget all about - Ion, what's wrong?!"

Everyone looked at Ion and saw tears streaming down his cheeks. When he realized everyone was staring, he tried to wipe them away, but it was like trying to wipe off rain during a downpour.

"I-I'm sorry, Anise," he whispered. "I can't seem to stop crying." He covered his mouth with one hand as his shoulders convulsed. What little strength remained in his legs drained, sending him sinking to the ground. Anise was by his side in an instant, holding him with both arms, and Mieu swooped around and patted his face in concern, but neither consoled him.

Why couldn't he have realized it sooner? It had struck him as forcefully and in the same moment as the avalanche that swallowed Sync. All the times he had felt jealous, when he'd looked at how close Sync and Anise were growing to be and felt left out... It wasn't because he thought Sync might take Anise from him. It was because Sync was opening his heart to Anise and not him. What Ion had wanted all along was for all of them to be friends-for Sync to care for him back.

He'd wished so hard for them to have a future together, and now it could never be.

_Is it my fault?_ Ion wondered as he wept. _Did everything I tried to do for him just make him suffer even more? Would it be best to let him rest in peace now...?_

Tear circled around to his other side and knelt down next to him. "Fon Master, I'm sorry," she murmured, hands folded tightly in her lap. "I know how hard this must be for you. Let's... move on. We still have a lot to do, and not a lot of time in which to do it."

"Are you serious?" Luke interjected. "Tear, I thought you liked him!"

"It seems like he didn't feel the same way," she replied. She rose to her feet, not meeting anyone's eye. "It's no different from Major Legretta. We fought as enemies, and if we'd lost, they would have killed us. That's all there is to it."

"But Sync didn't want to fight us!"

"Luke, what do you mean?" Natalia wondered. "How could you know such a thing?"

"Because of the way he fought. I could tell," Luke argued. "Back in the core, he didn't hesitate at all. Here, he was hesitating all over the place! And Tear - when he hit you with that fonic arte, he looked horrified! There's a lot I don't know, but I'm absolutely certain about this. Sync didn't want to fight us!"

"Luke..." Tear murmured.

"We should go look for him!" Mieu squeaked. "Sync must be so cold and lonely under all that snow!"

"Yeah. If we start looking now, then maybe -"

"Luke, don't forget our purpose here," Jade interrupted. "We don't even know if Sync survived the avalanche, and if he died, there's a strong possibility he left no body behind. In that case, we could comb this mountain for a month and never find him. We don't have the luxury of time to search for him."

"Surely it wouldn't hurt to search a little," Natalia argued, and caught Tear's eye. "We should check to see if the other God-Generals survived as well, for Tear's sake."

Tear gave her a small, grateful smile.

"At the very least, making sure they aren't going to ambush again when we leave would be a smart idea," Guy pointed out.

That, at least, everyone could agree upon, and most of the group spread out to search for any signs of survival. Anise stayed back with Ion and fussed over him, and Mieu tried to cheer him up by cuddling with him. Ion hugged him back and felt a little better. Slowly, he started to regain his composure, then nearly lost it again when Anise admitted she had to wipe his face with her gloves because Sync never gave back her handkerchief. After that, Anise held him tight and refused to let him go.

The other reassembled in fifteen minutes or so. By then, Ion had calmed down, so Anise gave him a little space. Tear and the others found signs that Legretta, Largo, and Arietta had been swept into a nearby ravine based on a few scraps of clothing and blood splatters. The ravine itself was deep enough that they couldn't see to the bottom, and the walls were too sheer to climb without equipment. Past the ravine, they'd found the Daathic seal. There was no sign of Sync at all. The news left Ion number than the Mt. Roneal chill.

"Maybe he ended up further down the mountain," Luke said. "We should keep looking."

"We don't have time for that," Jade reminded him.

"Well, then let's split up! Half of us can go to the Sephiroth and half of us can keep looking!"

"I'm not sure I like the idea of splitting our forces in two. Mt. Roneal's monsters are tricky enough to handle with all six of us."

"Please, Jade," Ion murmured. "Can we please do that?"

"As long as we avoid fights and run away when we can, we should be all right," Luke insisted. "Just until nightfall, okay? Please, Jade!"

He sighed and pushed up his glasses. "...Very well, since you're both so insistent."

"All right!" Luke enthused. "Then I'll head down the mountain now and -"

"Luke, you can't do that," Tear interjected.

"Wh-what? Why not?"

"Because you're the only one who can alter the commands in the Sephiroth. If you head down the mountain and something happens to you, we won't be able to complete our mission. It would completely defeat the point of splitting up."

"But..."

Tear shook her head. "We have to be logical about this. We've come too far to get careless now." She pressed a hand to her chest. "I can't go either. I have to unlock the Yulian seal. Neither can the Colonel; he has to instruct you on what commands to carve into the Sephiroth. And Fon Master Ion can't, because he needs to unlock the Daathic seal." She turned to Natalia. "Natalia, if I could ask you..."

"Of course," she said immediately. "He'll need a Healer once he's found. I'll do my best in your place, Tear."

Tear gave her another grateful smile. "...Thank you."

Guy clapped Luke's shoulder. "I already saved Sync with you once," he said. "Let me take up your share while you take care of business here, all right, Luke?"

"Guy... Thanks."

"I'll help too! I can fly up high and try looking for him from above!" Mieu offered.

Luke laughed a little, relaxing. "Thanks, Mieu. You go with Guy and Natalia, then. We're all counting on you, okay?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Be careful, you three," Tear said. "We'll meet at the foot of the mountain, all right?"

They nodded.

"Anise?" Ion murmured. "What will you...?"

"I'm staying with you, of course," she said quickly. "I have to protect you, Ion."

"...Could you please help Guy and Natalia search for Sync instead?"

She grimaced. "Ion, I don't know... N-no, please don't look like that, Ion - fine, I'll help, okay? Just don't look so miserable!" _My heart can't take it,_ she added silently.

"Thank you," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

Anise swallowed a sigh and leaned in to give him a quick hug. "I'll do my best. I promise," she swore. "So don't worry, okay?"

Ion knew he would worry no matter what, but it did make him feel better. He knew Anise was angry at Sync, but he also knew he could trust her. He gave her a watery but reassured smile when they separated. Tear and Luke promised Anise they'd protect him for her, and then the two groups split. Ion watched the others over his shoulders as far as he could, which wasn't very far. The Daathic seal was only around the corner and along the mountain wall. Once they were there, he focused on the task at hand.

He had to believe. He _had_ to believe. And so he had to do what he could, so the world would be saved. Without the world, there was no point in wishing for a better future.

Anise, meanwhile, hurried back the way the group had come, to the point where she was outpacing even Guy. Mieu struggled to keep up until Natalia plucked him out of midair and perched him on her shoulder.

"Hey, easy there, Anise," Guy called, picking up the pace. "You don't want to risk slipping and falling, right? I know you're worried about Sync, but -"

"I'm not worried about him!" she declared quickly, forcefully. Natalia and Guy exchanged a glance over her head. "He's a manipulating asshole, and when we find him, I'm going to punch him right in his stupid face!"

"You aren't really going to do that, Anise," Natalia scolded her. "You know he's going to be injured when we find him."

"I know that!" Anise snapped. "Did you even see how broken up Ion was over that stupid lying ingrate? I couldn't ever hurt Ion like that when he's already so upset!"

"B-but you said you were going to punch Sync," Mieu squeaked.

"Yeah, because I'm still freaking mad! Why does Sync have to ruin everything?!"

"You know, you almost seem _too_ angry about this," Guy observed. "Are you sure you aren't worried about him?"

"Sh-shut up!" She whirled around to face them. Everyone stopped dead in their tracks. "I'm a million percent sure! I don't care the teeniest, tiniest, microscopiest _bit_ about Sync!"

Silence rang out after that. After a moment, Natalia cleared her throat.

"Let's focus on the search for now," she said. "Tear and the others are counting on us."

The reminder helped ground the group, and the four of them started combing the mountainside in earnest. Anise meanwhile knew, at least in the confines of her head, that even if she didn't punch Sync, she was going to punch _something_ when she found him - and it would definitely be "when." She'd make sure of it. There was no way Sync was getting away with this.

Just remembering Ion wracked with grief broke her heart all over again. He was so kind and gentle and he cared so much about Sync, and Sync had repaid him by making him cry. _Twice_. That enraged Anise even more than his betrayal had, but if finding him was the only way to make Ion happy again, she'd do it. She'd do anything to make him happy. It was the least she could do to make up for her spying, but even without that, it made her ache inside to see Ion so sad. He trusted her; she just _couldn't_ let him down.

And besides... maybe she was _one_ teeny, tiny, microscopy bit worried. Admitting that to herself just made her angrier, though. How dare he...

How dare Sync hurt them like this!

* * *

Eventually, the snow settled down. Sync could barely breathe as he was rushed off the mountain by the avalanche, and each time a new wave of snow billowed over him, he felt another chunk of his strength shave away. By the time it all settled and he was left at some cold and lightless depth, he could barely move. Instinct made him clear some of the snow away from his face with his good hand, just so he had room to catch his breath, but when he was done, he let his arm fall limp.

He shut his eyes. It made no difference. _So, I'm going to die here,_ he thought without emotion. _I'm so tired._

His breathing slowed. He might have fallen asleep, but without a way of keeping time, he wasn't sure. All he knew was, after a while, there came a scraping sound somewhere above him. His eyes snapped open, and little by little, he noticed a patch of light growing over him.

Was someone digging him out? How did they find him? _Why_ would they find him? Sync hesitated, then began to dig up. He even used his bad hand, albeit cautiously; the cold had numbed it to the point where he couldn't feel the pain. The light grew brighter until a patch opened up, and Sync saw an ice wolf tilting its head down at him.

Assuming it was one of Arietta's friends, he reached his left hand out for it. It opened its mouth - to chomp on his arm and give it a vicious yank. Sync shrieked in pain, struggling against it, but he was still half-buried and couldn't do much. He warded it off with a Third Fonon-infused punch with his right and kicked away at the snow in unthinking desperation. When he staggered upright, he saw the ice wolf had brought its entire family and several of its neighbors.

The fight went poorly. Sync managed to kill a glasruda with a Flare Tornado, but his punches had no strength behind them and his kicks were rubbery and weak. He tried to run, but in his state, he wasn't quick enough to evade the monsters. He still fought tooth and nail to keep them at bay, but he accumulated new injuries as quickly as he exacerbated his old ones. At last, he found himself half-collapsed, ice wolves and glasrudas swimming in and out of view. Death had knocked on his door many times, but it seemed like this was finally the end.

And yet what he felt wasn't relief, but regret.

Sync's eyes widened. On his left hand, the tattered handkerchief blew in the wind.

_I messed up,_ he realized. He remembered both volcanic heat and hide-and-seek; both endless days of training and growing days of conversation; both the shadows of his mask and glasses of milk.

_So this is it,_ he thought, eyes stinging. _I was such an idiot._

He remembered both scores of soldiers and his fellow God-Generals, cruel laughter and dealing death; both words of acceptance and gentle blue eyes, kind silence and having fun. Even the howl of the wind seemed to carry Mieu's squeaky voice on it.

_ It was a short and pointless life, and I accomplished nothing at all._

He'd always wanted to decide his own death himself, to go out on his own terms. To not even get that seemed a fitting punishment.

Sync murmured to himself, relaxed, and shut his eyes.

So it was a shock when he heard a bellowing roar and the sound of something large slam into something meaty. He looked up to see Anise, on her doll's back, barreling through the ice wolves fist-first.

"I'LL KILL YOU BASTARDS!" she snarled as she slew them.

Adrenaline-laden warmth flooded out from Sync's core to his extremities, making them tingle. The vicious way she tore through her enemies reminded him of Arietta, except possibly even more brutal. It entranced him, made him want to get up and fight with her, but his legs -

\- felt stronger, more stable, as that tingling now washed over his entire body in the familiar sensation of a healing arte. His turned his head to its source, holding his breath in hope and dread, then puffed it out when he saw it was only Natalia. Sync shifted his weight to try to stand while Guy rushed towards him, one hand on the hilt of his sword. Sync realized his intention at the last second and dropped down just as the other man spun into the air directly into a glasruda that had closed in and reared up for an attack. Natalia finished off the other avian monster with several arrows to the chest and eyes, and above, Mieu cheered them on.

But the more his head cleared, the more he realized how unreal it all felt. By the time Sync finally got back up on still-wobbly feet, clutching his bloody left arm, his weariness had washed back in and eroded his will to fight. He watched his enemies fight to protect him as if it were a play or some other make-believe story. Tear was nowhere in sight, and neither was Ion; his jaw clenched at the thought that they had to be together.

Before long, Anise and the others took out the last of the monsters. Sync wasn't surprised that they didn't precisely put away their weapons when they turned around on him, but his exhaustion had put him at his limit.

"So are you gonna come quietly, or do we have to kick your ass too?" Anise growled.

Sync laughed a little, then let himself sink backwards into the cold and dark. The last he heard before he passed out was his name, shouted with alarm from a long distance away.


	18. Funeral Song

_Tue rei ze croa riou tue ze..._

The melody was somehow both nostalgic and unfamiliar. Sync shook his head slowly, but he couldn't seem to cast off the cobwebs on it. Behind him was a corridor, and before he was a door. He had a bad feeling about the door, but he reached out to open it anyway.

_Croa riou ze tue riou rei neu, riou ze..._

Inside was the Fon Master's office. He'd only ever seen it once. His bad feeling rotted into outright dread. There was another door in front of him. He could still run away. But the lullaby, sung in an insidious baritone, lured him to the other side. By the time he was there, he was sure it was where he wanted to be, even though or maybe because he knew he would die.

_ Va rei ze tue, neu tue riou tue croa..._

He lingered there a moment. Around him, the walls and door seemed to waver as if flickering like a candlelight. Though there were lights, everything was cast in deep shadow. It disoriented him, and for a moment, he forgot what he was doing. Why was he here? What did he want?

_Riou rei croa riou ze, rei va ze... rei..._

His hand rested on the doorknob. Without his quite willing it, the knob turned and took his hand with it. When it opened, it pulled him inside too. The darkness within swallowed him up, but he could see the singer and the boy on the bed clearly. It was as if they were haloed in light while he remained a thing of the gloom.

As he stared at them, the abyss looked up and stared back. Then it reached out to envelope him.

_Va neu va rei! Va neu va ze -_

* * *

"Stop!" Sync gasped, thrashing around the cloth that bound him. As he flailed, he realized he wasn't actually bound, that there was a soft light overhead, and that he was alive. A gentle hand pressed on his right shoulder, and as clarity began to return, he looked up to see Tear, standing over him with a look of concern. Relief surged through him and he tried to prop himself up, but pain lanced up his left hand all the way to his elbow, and he collapsed back down onto what he now realized was a large, soft bed. Breath ragged, cold sweat trickling down his face, he closed his eyes and crooked his right arm over them.

Tear had removed her hand, but she still asked from close by, "Are you all right?"

"No," Sync mumbled, dream still fresh on his brain.

She breathed a faint sigh. "I suppose that was obvious. You seemed to be having a nightmare."

Synapses connected cause to effect. "Is that why you were singing?"

"Yes. It doesn't look like it helped. I'm sorry."

"Why are _you_ sorry?" he mumbled.

"Because when you hurt someone, it's proper to apologize," Tear replied, tone cooling.

_Ah. That's right,_ he thought muzzily, memories peeling open like a sunburn. _I stalked them to Mt. Roneal, and... ahh. I completely failed to kill even one of them. I almost got killed myself... How embarrassing. I really am a piece of trash._

But something about it seemed off. He'd survived the avalanche, been attacked by monsters at the foot of the mountain, gotten overwhelmed, and some of Tear's friends had come to his rescue... Then they'd... taken him back to Keterburg, hadn't they...? Sync removed his right arm from his face and used it to carefully, carefully inch himself up so he could look around.

Several paired lamps were installed on the wall, one directly over his head, another on the wall opposite him, a third over a bed next to his. A fireplace and a pair of bedside tables separated them. The bed Sync was in was the one closest to the door. The fireplace, despite having a crackling fire inside, had no pokers next to it, which struck him as odd until the obvious reason why occurred to him: no one would want him to get his remaining hand on a weapon. The wallpaper was off-white, and the rug, sheets, and curtains were all different shades of red.

A series of windows lined the far wall, a large marble sill marking where they began about three feet over the floor. They arched in six loops, each connected directly to each other and reaching nearly to the ceiling. All of them looked to be locked from the inside and overlooked a view at least twenty feet off the ground. It was snowing outside, so he was definitely somewhere in Keterburg.

A wooden table for two stood in the middle of the room, but it only had a single chair. Tear sat next to his bedside on what was probably its twin. A large dresser and stool rested against the wall on the other side of the room next to an archway that led into the bathroom, from what he could tell from here. As he tried to get up, he found himself sinking in his bed. It was so soft, it felt like a cloud. No wonder he'd been so disoriented.

"Where am I?" he asked, confused.

"A suite at the Keterburg Hotel," Tear replied, tone still cool. "When Guy, Natalia, Mieu, and Anise brought you to the city after your ambush failed, Governor Osbourne had your wounds treated and you brought here to recuperate. The singles were all occupied, so you were placed in a double. There are guards stationed just outside the door, for your information. You can consider yourself under house arrest."

Sync chuckled in spite of everything. "Looks like you saw right through me."

The air around her went from chilly to frozen steel. It reminded him of Van, and he shifted uneasily, then turned away to inspect himself.

His broken hand had been splinted, his arm wrapped up tight to keep it from moving as much to dress his wounds. Underneath the loose white gown-like garment he wore, he could see bandages wrapped around his torso, obscuring most of the glyph on his chest from sight, to his relief. Patches of gauze under which warnings of red lurked dotted his body in several places, several of them under the bandages. When he peeked under the sheets and thick blanket, he saw the garment had bunched up enough to show that his legs had been similarly treated.

He lowered the bedset and himself with a slump. It looked like, beyond that first healing arte Natalia had given him on the battlefield, they'd mostly used traditional medicine to patch him up. It figured; his entire body felt like a used, wrung-out towel. He tried not to think about who might've seen him naked. Even the idea of it made his skin crawl.

"What happened?" he wondered.

So she explained to him what happened after the avalanche: how Ion had broken down into tears, how Luke had insisted that they search for Sync, how they'd ultimately decided to split into two groups. Tear, for practical reasons, had gone with the Sephiroth group. Sync vaguely remembered not seeing her with the rescue team and squashed the jealousy and resentment that bubbled up inside him.

"What's going to happen to me now?" he murmured. "And how long have I been out?"

Tear stood up. "It's almost noon right now. You've been asleep for a day. I came in a few minutes ago to check up on you, and I'm going to have something brought for you to eat. You're going to continue to rest until you fully recover or until we return. Then, assuming you've stayed put and behaved yourself, you'll be released into Fon Master Ion's custody."

Sync waited a moment. She said nothing else to him, opting instead to walk to the door, open it, and murmur something to the guard just outside. He waited until she came back, just in case. When it became clear that she was done, he uttered, "That's _it_?"

She sat again, then peered down at him with narrowed eyes. "Do you have a problem with that?"

Sync was silent for a moment, grappling internally with the question. There had to be something else about it. When he realized what it was, he managed to look directly at the other Oracle Knight. "Being released into the Fon Master's custody... Wouldn't that mean I'd be taken back to Daath?"

"That's right."

"I thought you people were trying to prevent me from returning to Daath."

"By the time you've healed, that won't be an issue," Tear replied, holding his gaze. "Legretta, Largo, and Arietta are dead. They were caught in the avalanche and fell into a ravine."

Her words were like a punch to the gut, and that surprised him. Sync stared at her, breath momentarily stuck in his lungs. He squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head to clear away thoughts of his late compatriots, and focused. Tear said they'd unsealed the Sephiroth supporting Sylvana.

_That's right. If they did that, that means... _"So you triggered Van's trap."

Tear narrowed her eyes. "You knew."

Sync laughed in spite of himself. It was sandpaper in his throat. "He always has a back-up plan. Always. You'll never be able to kill him, no matter how many of you you throw at him."

"That's our problem, not yours."

He opened his eyes. Tear was back to glaring at him. He sagged back onto the bed, smiling bitterly at her frigidity. "You hate me. I knew you'd hate me."

"I don't hate you," she replied. "But I _am_ very unhappy with you right now."

Sync slid his good hand over one side of his face. He knew she wasn't a liar, but at the same time, he just couldn't believe her. "You wouldn't say that if I'd actually managed to kill your friends."

Her glacial glare thawed somewhat. "Probably not," she agreed. "Which makes me wonder why you spared Noelle when you escaped the Albiore."

Sync's pulse throbbed in his neck, making it feel like his heart was trying to escape. "What are you talking about?"

"You retrieved your equipment from the engine room, but you left Noelle unharmed. It would have been a huge blow to us if our pilot had died."

_I didn't think of that._ But that sounded stupid. How could he, a trained soldier, not think of killing someone? Besides, it was him they were talking about.

_I didn't want to kill her._ But that was too transparent. Sync barely knew her, felt nothing for her, and would have made things easier for himself if he _had_ killed her.

_I did it as a favor to you._ But that was the one thing he couldn't say. It was true, but it sounded like a lie - like a bid for her sympathy. To tell the truth but not be believed would be too pathetic to tolerate.

Sync averted his eyes.

Tear watched him for a moment, leaning forward slightly; then she settled back in her chair. "Since we had to split our forces to take care of both you and the Sephiroth, our return to town was delayed. During that time, the Albiore's engine froze over and delayed our departure for the Absorption Gate even further. So you see, I'm unhappy with you," she explained, "but I don't hate you."

It was then that Sync realized her not hating him just made him feel worse.

"You met Van while you were in our custody, didn't you?"

He jolted, head shooting up to stare at her. "How -?" The adrenaline of shock began to drain, and he settled. "...I didn't meet him, exactly. But I saw him, and he saw me."

Tear nodded. "I thought so. I wish I'd realized it sooner."

"How did you figure it out?"

"The day before yesterday, you asked me how it went with Van. At the time, I'd thought it odd, but since the others had known where to look for me, I had assumed someone mentioned what was going on," she replied. "When we all returned from Mt. Roneal, I spoke with the others and realized that wasn't the case."

Sync nodded. It was all very logical.

"Sync... Is Van the reason why you suddenly became so depressed?"

He glanced away. "...He knew I was there. He saw me. I know he did, because he looked right at me. And he did nothing about it. He just turned away and ignored me." Another bitter smile creased his face as he clutched his injured arm. "I don't know what I expected. Van's never made it a secret that I mean nothing to him."

Tear made a small noise in her throat but otherwise said nothing. In the silence that followed, a knock came at the door. Tear went to answer it, and returned with a stand-up tray of thick cream soup, a chunk of fresh bread, a steaming cup of tea and a frosted bottle of milk. It all looked delicious and filling, but as she stood the tray over his lap, he clenched his fists. Empty as it was, his stomach turned.

"Why did you send your friends to keep those monsters from killing me?" he murmured, peering down at the meal. "It'd make everything so much easier for all of you if I were gone."

She settled back onto her chair and side-eyed him. "I thought the point of you escaping was to make our lives more difficult?"

He grit his teeth. After a moment of watching him, she sighed.

"Did you want us to kill you?"

"No. I wanted to die and take all of you with me."

Tear palmed her forehead. "I should have figured you'd say that."

His fingernails dug into his palms, and he both knew and didn't care that they'd leave welts. "...I wanted to die accomplishing something," he continued, unable to drop it. "I hated rotting away in that cell. The fact that you all were so soft on me made it worse." Without meaning to, anger heated up his voice: "I would've killed all of you without regrets, but you keep looking down on me! What did I survive hell for if you people strip that all away?!"

That took Tear aback. Eyes widened, she stammered, "Sync, I - I don't understand. I thought you were unhappy because Van abandoned you."

"Of course you don't understand! I'm nothing! I'm just an empty shell! But at least I could fight!" he yelled, words spilling out of him hot and sour like vomit. "Van might've pulled strings to get me on the God-Generals, but the title wasn't for show! Now I don't even have that, and it's all thanks to _you_!"

"Me? What did I do?"

"You were _nice_! You were nice, and you thought that'd be enough! You think looking out for me makes a difference when I'm a prisoner? You think a five-minute pep talk could magically fix everything wrong?" The memory of Van turning his back marched through the fore of his brain. "It doesn't matter what you do or say. I'm still just a useless, broken _replica_!" he spat, snapping his right arm out for emphasis as he whipped around to face her.

At the same time, his hand knocked into the contents of the tray and knocked them over. The bottle of milk landed safely on the carpet and the chunk of bread bounced nearby, but the cup of tea went flying and shattered on the wall, while the bowl of soup spilled all over the blanket and clattered down onto the floor. The utensils clattered onto the floor with them, and the napkins flew for a couple of seconds before fluttering down. Tear spun out of the way before anything could land on her, and both of them stared down at the mess.

"I -" Sync uttered, shame burning his face.

The door opened and the guard took a half-step in. "Is everything all right?" she asked.

"Yes," Tear replied, turning towards her. "There was just a small accident."

The guard looked down at the scattered food. "I'll call for room service to clean this up."

"Please do."

"I -" Sync repeated, but the door shut before he could say anything. He flinched, then hung his head. "...I-I didn't mean to do that."

"It doesn't really matter if you meant to do it or not, does it?" Tear replied, tone faintly annoyed.

It was so true that he couldn't even think of a retort. He pursed his lips, then threw off the covers with his good hand and gingerly slid himself out of bed, dragging the sheets out with him. Tear made a noise of surprise and held out a hand as if to stop him, but she was on the other side of the bed.

"Sync, you're injured!" she protested as he limped around to her side. "You should get back in bed."

"I made this mess," he replied, kneeling gingerly next to the soup mess and using the sheets to wipe them up. "I have to clean it up."

Tear lowered her hand, shut her eyes and smiled faintly. "...All right. But it'll go more quickly if I help you."

"You don't need to bother," he murmured, but she was already folding the blanket back to stop it from dripping further on the floor.

As he cleaned up the spill, she picked up the utensils, righted the bowl and set them back on the tray. After that, because he was having trouble cleaning one-handed, she picked up the fallen napkins, retrieved towels from the bathroom, and helped him wipe up the last from the wall and carpet. Having her so close made him uncomfortable, and he leaned away from her whenever she leaned in.

"You're just wasting your time," he insisted quietly, bunching up the now-dirty sheets and towels and setting them at the foot of the bed. "I'll never deserve it."

She glanced at him. Then she stood up. "Can you help me fold the blanket, please? It'll be easier for the maid to take it away."

His mouth twisted at her non-reply, but he gripped the side of the bed and used it to help himself back to his feet. Together, they lifted up the cover and folded it into thirds, then halves. Sync took it from her and rested it at the foot of the bed with the sheets, then turned towards the shattered cup of tea. Tear was already there, though, so he hesitated and gathered the bread and milk bottle. They were still good, so he set aside the bottle, which would be difficult to open one-handed, and tore into the piece of bread.

"Have you ever considered what it means to 'deserve' something?"

Sync turned to stare at Tear. She met his gaze briefly, then returned her attention to the fragments of the cup as she collected them piece by piece. He continued to wolf down his meal, but not without listening.

"To 'deserve' something," she continued, "implies that what happens to you is equal and equivalent to what you've done. But what people deserve and what people get are often two completely different things. Maybe you don't deserve to be given so many chances, but you also didn't deserve to be thrown into a live volcano. Things happen to people regardless of whether they 'deserve' them or not, bad _and_ good. That's how the world is." She rolled onto her heels and stood. "And since that's how the world is, it's fine for good things to happen to you. You can accept them as they are without worrying if you've done enough to 'earn' it."

A candle-flame of some emotion he didn't understand flickered inside him. He swallowed the last bite. "I... I never thought of it like that." Things happen whether people deserve them or not_..._ The implications unfurled in his mind like a flower. "That... makes," he uttered, "a lot of sense."

She smiled at him. He jerked his head away out of pure reaction, collected himself a few seconds later, and slid his eyes back her way. She hadn't turned away, so he stood up straight to face her.

"Tear," he began, "I -"

The door opened, jangling his frayed nerves, and a maid walked in with broom, mop, and dustpan in tow. Sync grabbed his chest with the wrong hand and slumped back onto the now-bare bed in pain. He sat there, self-conscious, as the maid talked to Tear and handled the rest of the cleaning. It didn't take long thanks to what they'd already done. At one point, he had to move his feet, and he took that as a prompt to move from the first bed to the second one, which wouldn't have to be re-made.

Once they were alone again, Tear opened up the bottle of milk, brought it to him, and sat down next to him on the second bed. He hesitated, then accepted. He drained it in one go, then set the empty bottle on his lap while he gasped for breath. As it evened out, he considered the snow drifting outside the wall of windows and the comfortable silence that hung in the warm room.

"Why _are_ you so nice to me?" he wondered quietly. "I don't get it."

"Well..." She hesitated a breath, then shook her head. "I won't lie to you - there are several reasons that have nothing to do with you personally."

_Van,_ he thought. _Luke. Fon Master Ion._

"But it's also because, even if you don't think so yourself, I believe you can change for the better," she continued, looking at him. "Just now, you recognized you did something wrong and you did your best to fix it without making excuses. That part of you should be encouraged. You're more than the circumstances of your birth, and I don't want to give up on you."

No matter what, Sync couldn't believe that anyone would ever really like him. He'd come to accept that, even relish it by turning a caustic tongue on enemy and ally alike, but he'd never been happy about it. At no point in his life had he been allowed to make mistakes; if he made them anyway, he was heavily punished. The promise of going back into the burnable trash always hung over his head like a guillotine, and Van had personally pulled the wire.

So for Tear to tell him she didn't want to give up on him... No, she'd shown him several times she wouldn't give up on him, and action could be trusted. Tear could be trusted. He'd known that for a while, but he hadn't fully accepted it.

Until now.

"I'm sorry," Sync rasped, eyes burning. "I'm sorry I'm such a screw-up."

"Everyone messes up sometimes," Tear reassured him. "What's important is that we acknowledge our mistakes and fix them. You don't need to do it alone, either."

"You said that before," he croaked, pressing his good hand to his face. It felt wet. Had he been sweating from exertion? "But I still threw it in your face."

She paused, then turned her head away for some reason. "I was upset with you about that, yes, but if you truly want to remain loyal to my brother, I won't judge you for it. Ultimately, I know very little about your history with him. Now, I can only speak for myself; the others are also upset with you, and rightfully so. But if you regret attacking us, then it's not too late to reconsider what it is you wanted as Van's subordinate."

Sync lowered his hand and puffed out a breath. "I'm just a tool to him anyway."

"That's true. So if he discards a tool and someone else picks it up, he can hardly complain, can he?"

Sync couldn't help it; he laughed. There was something both absurd and genuinely funny about what she said. "You don't hold back, do you?"

She turned back to him. "I-I'm sorry. Was that insensitive of me?"

He shook his head. "It's fine. You're bluntly honest, and I like that part of you."

She smiled ruefully. "...Meaning there are other parts about me that you don't like?"

"You're being too picky. You should be happy I like you at all."

Tear laughed, and Sync found himself laughing with her. It was a strange, refreshing feeling. The laughter died down soon, but the buzz remained, and he basked in it.

Happy. Was this what it felt like to be happy?

He wiped the sweat from his cheeks. "...Thanks for not telling anyone I threw a tantrum," he murmured. "That was really embarrassing."

"It's all right. You've been under a lot of stress."

"...You really are nice. You're probably the nicest person I know."

"I-I'm not, really," she protested, reddening. "I'm just doing what any decent person would."

"Then there must not be a lot of decent people in this world."

Tear smiled faintly, eyes shut. "I think you'll find there's more than you realize." She stood up and turned to face him, hands on her hips, expression now stern. "But don't forget - people have their limits. Take advantage, and you'll see very quickly where they lie."

Sync crooked a half-smile. "You say that like I haven't constantly been pushing you people." He reflected on this, then added, "Anise must be really mad at me, huh."

Tear lowered her hands. "She is."

He traced his thumb down a line on his injured hand where Anise had wrapped her handkerchief. "...Can you tell her I'm sorry?"

"No. You need to tell her yourself."

He almost laughed again. "True. She wouldn't believe it if it came from anyone but me. She probably still won't believe me."

"Maybe not, but if you really are sorry, that's a risk you have to take."

"I guess you're right. Where is she, anyway?"

"On the Albiore. I need to get going myself."

Harsh reality slapped him, and he snapped upright. "Wait, right _now_?"

"Yes. The Outer Lands are in danger of falling at any time. I only intended to come here for a moment before leaving again."

The implication of that wasn't lost on Sync: she'd only intended on a single moment, yet she'd ended up spending this much time with him. Even so - no, because of that, he jumped to his feet, ignoring the gasp of pain from his legs, and grabbed her hand.

"Wait. Think this through," he insisted, locking eyes with her. "You can't beat Van. No one can. If you go to the Absorption Gate, you'll just throw your life away!"

"And if I stay here, I'll die just the same when the Outer Lands fall," Tear countered. "By going, I'll have a chance of saving everyone." Her expression steeled. "Don't worry. We won't lose. We can't afford to."

Even so, Sync didn't let go. He felt like the ground had fallen away from underneath him. It should have been obvious that that would be their next destination, but somehow it had never occurred to him until now. Was happiness that fragile?

After a moment, her eyes gentled. "Thank you for worrying about me. You really have changed, Sync." She turned her hand around and squeezed his gently. "This isn't goodbye. I'll see you again soon, so make sure you get your rest and recover. All right?"

_Don't go._

But he knew he couldn't say that. She was right; she'd die either way, so she may as well go down fighting. Sync understood that well. When she slipped her hand out of his, he let her go. A nod farewell, and Tear left. It was as simple as that, but he couldn't stop watching her. When the door closed behind her, it sounded like him like a sarcophagus lid slamming shut.

He'd never see her again. He was sure of it. If he'd told them about Van's trap, maybe it wouldn't have ended up like this. But then, it was only today, only in the last few minutes, that he realized he liked Tear enough to want her to live.

_I'm so stupid._

Sync sank back onto the bed and slumped over himself. When the maid returned to make the other bed and give him a replacement meal, he let her do what she needed to. He ate obediently, and he rested obediently.

He had no more will to cause trouble, because soon, it wouldn't matter.


	19. Sky

Fat flakes of snow fluttered down from the perpetually gray skies over Keterburg and found their end on Sync's cheeks. When they melted, they streaked down to the side, but the former God-General paid them no heed. It was cold and cramped and solitary on the marble windowsill on which he perched, and he preferred it that way. One leg dangled inside the hotel room, and the other pressed against the window pane while he held his back to the wall. His broken left hand rested on his lap, and the right dangled outside. As thick and blustery as the snow was, he could barely see the few people walking around on the streets below. It created an illusion that he was the only one left in the world, and it was an illusion that Sync embraced.

It had been two and a half days since Tear had left with the others. He felt in better condition thanks to both rest and getting his clothes back, laundered and mended, but only comparatively. There had been several tremors since yesterday. The military police and hotel staff acted calm on the surface from what he saw of them when he was brought food, but when they didn't directly address him, Sync could tell they were tense with dread. They'd posted guards on the inside of his room as well as the outside at first, after Tear had left, but apparently there was a growing need for city patrols. Now, as far as he could tell, he only had the guards just outside his door. Fon Master Ion had checked into the room next to his after the others had left, and he'd overheard him yesterday reassuring people that it would be fine, that Luke and the others would ensure the Outer Lands were lowered safely.

Sync hadn't had the heart to undermine him with the truth. What was the point? They'd all see how wrong they were soon enough. As for him, it was just as well that his injuries and house arrest had grounded him in Keterburg. It didn't matter to him where he was when the end came, but it seemed fitting that he spend his last days here, in the region where Largo, Legretta, and Arietta had died.

He held out his bare hand to catch a few of the snowflakes. They lasted a moment before they inevitably melted. He watched his body warmth ruin them, one by one. Being on one of the top floors, even though he'd been able to open a window almost all the way with some effort, the only thing jumping would achieve was death. The prospect wasn't unwelcome, but even that seemed like too much of a bother now. Instead, he thought about his companions, former and current. Well... They were all former, now. Not that it mattered. He had no faith that he would ever see any of them ever again.

The mental image of Tear slipping out the door haunted him.

_That's right,_ Sync told himself. _It never mattered, so there's nothing to be sad about._

Presently, he became aware of someone calling his name. He hadn't noticed at first over the sound of the wind and snow - or maybe he'd just been too lost in his own head. He leaned his head out and glanced to one side, and saw Fon Master Ion leaning out his window.

"Sync!" he called. "Please get inside! It must be freezing with that window wide open, and it'll be dark soon!"

It was, and that was the point. Sync didn't think Ion would understand, no more than he understood anything else. "You want me to come in? Come and make me," he called back, and returned to staring at the endless gray world above.

There was no response beyond the sound of a window sliding shut, and Sync assumed that was that. When he heard a knock at his door, he sighed. He didn't react when someone came into the room or when he felt a presence at his side.

"Sync, please come inside," Ion said quietly from next to him. "It makes me nervous to see you sitting so close to the edge like that."

"I don't care how you feel," Sync replied blandly.

Ion said nothing, and he was fine with that. Because he said nothing, though, it startled Sync when the Fon Master started to open the next window over.

It was pathetic, how long it took him. Even with only one hand, Sync had had a simple enough time of it once he got the lock to start to slide; it likely hadn't been opened in years, so it stuck a little, but he knew how to use his strength. Once that was taken care of, it just opened like a door. Ion struggled every millimeter of the way. He had to grip the lock with both hands, and by the time he managed to rotate it open ten minutes later, he was panting white clouds. Even so, he brought over a chair, climbed it, swept off the snow on the other side of the sill, and perched on it. His knees bent over the blackened steel frame, toes peeking down a four-story drop.

"If you won't get off the windowsill, then let me sit with you, Sync," he uttered once he'd caught his breath. "If you don't want me here, you'll have to come in with me."

"You're really stupid," was the first thing that came to Sync's mind. "Anise would be in a panic if she knew you just did that."

Ion smiled in spite of everything. "I won't tell if you won't."

Sync stared at him. Then he shook his head and turned his stare back out at the silvery city. "I'm not ready to go in yet," he replied. "You can do what you want."

Silence met that statement. Then, with great care, Ion scooted a little closer to Sync's side. The window next to Sync's opened in the opposite direction, so there was no glass between them, just the frame. He breathed on his hands, then hugged them close; even his thick tabard wasn't enough to keep the seventh replica warm, it seemed.

"What are you doing out here?" he wondered.

Sync considered snapping at him. He found he didn't have the will or energy for a witty barb. "Thinking."

"May I ask what about?"

"No."

"Oh... I'm sorry."

Sync didn't respond.

"Um... How's your hand?"

"Still broken."

"...Oh." Ion pursed his lips, then brightened and leaned forward. "You must be feeling better if you could open a window that hard to open, though! I'm sure your hand will be better soon, too."

"I guess. But I'm sitting here because I wanted -" _to feel nothing._ "- some privacy."

"...o-oh."

The two Ion replicas lapsed into more silence. The lights of the Keterburg Casino twinkled to one side, creating a muted light show in the white and deepening gray.

Then:

"I'm a little surprised."

Sync, despite himself, glanced at Ion. Ion met his gaze and continued, "I would have thought you'd be watching Mt. Roneal, not the city."

"Why?"

Ion blinked. "Why...? But - your fellow God-Generals died."

"So? We were all going to die eventually. We're still all going to die."

"No we're not. Luke and Anise and the others will put an end to Van's ambitions."

"Whatever." Sync turned his gaze back out towards the sea of rooftops. "They can't beat Van. I know personally just how strong he is."

"And I know personally how strong Anise and the others are."

Sync shook his head but didn't bother to reply. The wind groaned and blustered around them, and so he almost missed Ion's words.

"Does it really not matter to you that your comrades are gone? Even Arietta?"

He scowled. "What do you mean, 'even' Arietta? What's she got to do with anything?"

"What about Largo? Or Legretta? Or Dist, or Asch, or Van? Did you like _any_ of the people you fought alongside with?"

Sync snorted. "_Oh_, so that's what this is about. Let's see, that's a big 'no' for Dist and Asch. Of course _they_ have to still be alive. Another big 'no' for Van. He had to nerve to save my life." He smiled bitterly at the memory. It faded when he started thinking about his late compatriots. He was about to brush them off, but something in him made him admit, "...Legretta I guess I didn't mind too much. I didn't like her, but she didn't mess around. She didn't let whatever she felt get in the way of her orders. I could respect that."

He could feel Ion watching him. He refused to meet his gaze. "Largo was okay too. He was in charge of my training after Van brought me into the Oracle Knights. Mine and Arietta's."

"Really? But your styles are so different."

"Van trained me personally in the beginning, before he made me a God-General. Not that that changes much, I guess. But even if he hadn't, Largo used to say the best way to test the strength of someone small and nimble is to throw him at someone big and unyielding." Sync's gaze unfocused as he reminisced. "I didn't like him either. Not exactly. But he taught me a lot, and we made a good combo. I was... used to him."

"So that's why you two worked together so often," Ion mused. "What about Arietta?"

Sync thought about long pink hair and mopey red eyes. He thought about a malformed doll and a girl too short for her age. He thought about unrequited devotion and unrestrained emotion. He thought about a girl so wild, she lived as though the Score didn't exist.

Something in his chest squeezed in painfully.

"She never, ever, ever shut up about Fon Master Ion," he growled. "I couldn't stand her. She was so dumb. She never noticed that someone who looked and sounded like her precious Fon Master was right in the God-Generals with her. All she'd ever do was whine about how it was all Anise's fault that you sent her away."

"That wasn't me. That was the previous Ion," the seventh murmured. "Though Mohs was the one who carried out the order..."

"So? Same difference. It's not as if _she_ knew any better. Honestly, she had no idea how easy she had it. She got to believe that her Ion was still alive _and_ she had no idea how much Van was using her."

Ion frowned sadly. "So you disliked her?"

Sync thought of the aggression with which she battled. The purity with which she thought. The simplicity with which she approached the world. And he thought of her absolute disregard for that which she didn't already love.

"No," he replied. "I hated her."

"Oh." Ion paused. "It's just that, I remember that time in Choral Castle, and you spoke well of her..."

Sync made a noise of disgust and looked away. _He remembers something so insignificant from so long ago? Unbelievable._ "You really think I'd trash her in front of the enemy? Don't be stupid."

"...I see. So... you weren't trying to protect her the other day?"

Sync's jaw tensed. _Protect._ It was a word that hounded him, perpetually reminding him of his uselessness. "No," he said coldly. "If I had been, I did a damn poor job, but I wasn't. I just couldn't let her see my face, so I had to keep my back to her. And anyway, Arietta's never needed me and I've never needed her. I don't need anybody, just like no one's ever needed me. So _shut up_."

"I-I'm sorry."

The wind began to die down, though the snow continued to fall unabated. Ion rubbed his arms. He could hear the sounds of each of their breaths, his still a bit quick, Sync's slow. Then he, too, looked up at the sky.

"I love Anise."

"What?"

"And Luke, and Jade, and Tear, and Guy, Natalia, Mieu, and Noelle... They're all dear friends to me. But Anise holds a special place in my heart." Ion's gaze softened. "I don't really know what it's like to be in love. I'm not sure I'm capable of it. But I do know Anise makes me happy like no one else does. I trust all of my friends, but she's the one who always comes to my rescue, no matter what. For me, she's irreplaceable - the most precious friend I have."

The something in Sync's chest squeezed a little harder. "I'm sure you're both very happy together," he said, more coldly than he'd meant to. Silently, he added, _You're so naïve. You have no idea she's been spying on you and your friends this whole time._

But Ion only gave him a pained smile. "But sometimes... I wonder if she'd be better off without me."

That blindsided Sync. "Why in the world would you think that?"

"It's only sometimes," Ion clarified. "I know they care about me, and I know Anise would be upset if she heard me say so. But sometimes I feel like I just drag her and everyone down."

_That makes sense. You pretty much exist to get kidnapped,_ Sync thought. "Why are you telling me this?"

But Ion only puffed out a pale cloud. "Sync, you waited a moment before you joined the battle at Mt. Roneal. Did you consider, even if it was just for a second, joining in on Anise and Tear's side?"

Sync's heart rate surged. "What?"

"I wanted to." He lowered his gaze to his hands. "But if I did, I would only get in the way and make things worse. All I could do was watch from the side and hope nobody I cared about died."

Sync opened his mouth, then hesitated.

"Sync," he murmured, "would you be upset if I told you I envy you?"

It was what Sync thought he'd been driving at, but it remained so boggling a concept that he still had trouble wrapping his mind around it. All he could manage was a flabbergasted, "Why would _you_ be jealous of _me_?"

"You have a strong, healthy body. You have your own name. You're not just another Ion." Ion stared wistfully out at the cityscape. "I was unable to protect anyone when it counted, but you - you could have fought alongside them, had you wanted to."

Sync's incomprehension began to morph into disgust. "I can't believe I'm hearing this."

"Even if I want to protect and help the others, I can't," he continued. "I'm so frail and useless... It takes my utmost effort just to manage to not be a burden. I've always thought, if it weren't for my Daathic artes, no one would have any need for me at all."

All of a sudden, Sync found himself straddling the wall and leaning forward, right hand clenched. "Shut up."

Ion's smile was morose. "I thought you might get upset. I'm sorry for that. But I still can't help but wish I could be strong, like you."

Sync stared at him. The world, in that moment, felt unreal. The numbing cold and a slight vertigo only enhanced it. He wondered if he actually _had_ fallen into the core and was dreaming his last dreams before his fonons completely separated. It made more sense to him as a possibility than if Fon Master Ion had said those words to him and meant them.

"I'm not strong," he replied, because it was the only anchor he had in the conversation anymore. "That was the whole point. I wasn't strong enough to be Fon Master Ion. Only _you_ were."

"Then let's have a fight, right now."

"_What_?"

Ion met his gaze and held it. Sync gaped for a second, then shook his head.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said. "You know that's not the kind of strength I'm talking about."

"But it _is_ the kind of strength _I'm_ talking about."

"What? So you wish you'd ended up a God-General instead of me?" Sync demanded, letting his aggravation get the better of him against his better judgment. "You wish you'd had a glyph seared onto your body? You wish you'd been put through grueling months of training? Do you think you could even _handle_ that?"

"No, I don't."

That took the wind out of Sync's sails. He stared at him for a moment, then shook his head and swung his left leg up and around so he perched on the outside of the sill too. "I don't understand you."

"I just... I want to be able to protect the people I love." Ion leaned his head on the frame. "...But I can't. I only ever get protected. I can't do for them what they do for me."

And strangely, Sync thought he _did_ understand that. If protecting and being protected was what defined a bond with another human being, then only ever getting protected meant that it was hollow. Incomplete. Ion wanted to complete that bond, but he believed he had no means of doing so.

"You really are stupid," he said.

Ion frowned at him, hurt reflected in his eyes.

"You really think the only way you can protect someone is by killing?" Sync continued. "You're the Fon Master of the Order of Lorelei. You might not be able to express that power freely, but it's still power. Every time you use your influence to help whoever, you're protecting them. Don't you get something as simple as that?"

_Not that _I_ got it until Guy explained it to me,_ he didn't add.

But Ion's eyes had widened in wonder. "Really? That counts?"

"Apparently. I wouldn't know." Sync tilted his head back out towards the city. "I've never had anyone to protect. Not that I want to."

"What about Tear?" Ion wondered.

Those three words stabbed Sync as if between the fourth and fifth ribs. The pain they caused took him by total surprise. He uttered a strangled breath and ground his teeth. If he _had_ wanted to protect her, much like Arietta, he'd completely and utterly failed.

She was probably getting killed by Van as they spoke.

"It doesn't matter," he said tightly.

"Sync -"

"It _doesn't_!" he insisted, turning on the other boy. "Look at you! You really think Anise and the others think you're a burden? Do you think they care for one second that you can't throw a punch? Are you really so ignorant that you can't tell they all love you?" Tear had said she'd had reasons that had nothing to do with him. Sync knew that from the start, but still - "The only reason, literally the _only_ reason _any_ of them decided to be nice to me is because I look like _you_. And you think you've got any right to be jealous of _me_?!"

"So what you're saying is that you want to be loved for yourself?"

Sync stared. Ion stared back. After a moment, the former God-General straightened.

"I have to hand it to you, Fon Master. I didn't think you could be so cruel."

Ion's cheeks, already red from the cold, turned maroon. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be."

"That's what I hate about you," the fifth said, eyes narrowing, expression going flat. "You have so much. You have _everything_. You're a replica, but you have people who need you - who'd give a damn if you died. You're everything I can never be. And you have no idea how good you have it."

Ion hesitated. "...You're probably right," he finally admitted, then shook his head. "No, you're definitely right. It's hard for me to think of myself as having anything of my own, rather than something I inherited as the Fon Master's replacement. And it's hard for me not to think of myself as being easily replaced. But I _do_ have it good."

Winning the conversational gambit brought Sync no satisfaction. His eyes flicked down to the gap between them.

After a moment, Ion continued, very quietly, "This might not mean very much to you, coming from me. But whatever else you think, _I_ need you. I like you a lot, and I wanted you to like me, too. I didn't keep you close all this time out of pity, Sync. It's always been because I want you nearby."

Sync said nothing at first. Then he heaved a sigh, lips curling up slightly. If he wanted him to take him seriously, he ought to act instead of talk. Still... "I don't know how you can say something so embarrassing with a straight face."

"I'm sorry for embarrassing you, but it's true. You're my treasured friend."

A smirk snaked across his face, because there were no holes to crawl into to hide from such abject mushiness. "You've got bad taste, gushing over such a worthless treasure."

"Sync, I mean it!"

"Whatever."

Ion sneezed and rubbed his hands together. It was clear he wouldn't be able to outlast Sync - not if he wanted to avoid getting sick. Nonetheless, he took a deep breath. "...Would you like to make a wager, then?"

The former God-General eyed him. "What kind of wager?"

"If Van defeats Anise and the others, I'll admit you were right all along. About everything."

"I'm sure that'll be gratifying for the few hours we'll have left to live."

"But if Anise and everyone defeats Van," Ion added, "you'll agree to work for me."

It took a few seconds for that to sink in. It was just the kind of thing he would say. Sync considered refusing on principle, but accepting so he could rub it in the other replica's face later had a certain appeal.

"Yeah, sure," he thus said. "In the incredibly unlikely scenario where Van loses, I'll be your subordinate."

Ion's entire face lit up. It took Sync aback, like glancing suddenly into a warped mirror. "Really?! You really will?"

"Why not?" He pulled his feet up underneath him. "I'm not going to lose that bet. But even if I did, it wouldn't be the first time I took orders from someone I hate. It wouldn't even be the second."

"Sync..."

But the older replica had already gotten up. The window was tall enough that he could stand at his full height and still have an inch or two of room to spare. Ion carefully got to his feet as well, placing his hand on the frame as a guide in case he slipped on the icy marble. His caution kept him safe, though, and together they stood over the city.

Then Sync looked over at him and jerked his head towards the room. "Come on," he said. "I already owe Anise an apology, and she'd flip if I let you catch a cold."

Ion's smile glowed. "All right!"

Before they could slip inside, though, there was a sudden rumble, followed by the biggest tremor yet. Huge globs of snow shook off the roof and sailed down in front of them, and Ion clutched hold of the window frame for dear life. Sync reached for the same with his bad hand, let out a sharp cry when he realized too late, and slipped. Ion's heart leapt into his throat as he saw Sync's foot disappear off the ledge, and he snatched a hand forward for Sync's wrist faster than he'd ever believed himself capable.

He caught him, but the frame groaned dangerously against their combined weight. Sync's eyes narrowed, and he twisted his other foot and used inertia to swing himself around to Ion's side, then slide back off the sill and onto the chair. At the same time, he wrapped both arms around Ion and pulled him back with him, sending the both of them tumbling back. The chair was made out of fine hardwood and so withstood their fall, but it fell with them and landed with a loud THUD as the shaking intensified.

"Sync, are you okay?!" Ion said, pushing himself up to look down at him.

"Ugh. Just fine," he muttered, eyeing the rattling windows. They'd hit hard and cut deep if they fell on top of them. "But it looks like I'm already about to win our bet."

"That's not -!"

An intense quake cut Ion off and rattled the bed next to them. Sync curled his good arm around him, tucked his legs beneath himself and rolled up onto his feet, then began to tug the both of them away but not too far away from the windows. Keterburg was in the middle of the continent Sylvana, far away from any fault lines, so they probably weren't in danger of the land splitting in half beneath them, but it was possible that the quake would be enough to make the windows shatter or the building collapse in part or in whole. Since he'd never get the chance to apologize to Anise directly, protecting the Fon Master here would just have to do.

Besides, Ion still had to admit he was right. He couldn't do that if they died too soon.

Before anything could break or collapse, though, the rumbling eased up. However, it didn't disappear. The dull roar of the land underscored a sudden gust of wind. As Sync and Ion crouched together, they watched as the sky slowly, gently became more distant.


	20. Stranger

"Van is dead."

It was almost unnecessary to hear, considering the entire group had come back in one piece after the Outer Lands had elevatored down into the Qliphoth. They were all crowded in front of him between the bed and the door. Nonetheless, Sync croaked, "Really...?"

"There's no mistake," Tear replied stoically. "We killed him ourselves."

Sync felt himself teetering where he stood in his room at the Keterburg Hotel. He retreated several steps and slumped against the wall, not caring that Fon Master Ion and all of Tear's friends were there to gawk at him. His right hand dug into his bangs and hid half his face as his stare unfocused.

He'd never believed that Van could be defeated, let alone killed. However, there was no way Tear of all people would lie to him, especially about that. In ten words or less, his world had been completely upended.

The others watched him with mixed levels of concern, but the most concerned was easily Ion, who stepped over next to him.

"Sync?" he said, resting a tentative hand on his shoulder, the touch light enough to be snatched away at any time. "Are you going to be all right?"

Like seconds on a clock face, Sync's eyes ticked to one side until he stared, lost and desolate, at the Fon Master. The terms of their bet floated back to him, and his expression melted into merely dazed. Before him he saw two options: imprisonment or being Ion's aide. Either way he'd be in a cage.

But was that any different from normal? He had more freedom than the seventh Ion, but he'd still always been locked behind one mask or another. He'd said it himself: it wasn't the first time he'd taken orders from someone he hated. Given that his options were currently Ion or Mohs, Ion was even clearly the superior choice. Either way he wouldn't be able to directly destroy the Score, but under Ion's command, he could still snatch it away from the people and watch them cry about it. He'd even get the dubious pleasure of knowing the world would end regardless in a century or so. Sync wouldn't get to see the end himself, but he could take cold comfort in the knowledge that even Van's best efforts were ultimately futile.

The cynical thought processes helped click Sync's synapses back into clarity. With Van and the God-Generals who actually cared about his ideals dead, there wasn't any point in trying to carry on his work. Nobody but Van could actually make them a reality anyway. In which case, the best Sync could do to wreak his revenge really was to take the Score away from the public like a toy from a squalling child. Therefore, accepting the terms of the bet straightforwardly was his best option - but if he were to survive and even thrive as Ion's aide, he'd have to show the right amount of humility.

Sync tilted his head at Tear and the others and knew, whatever else he told himself, that wasn't the only reason he'd accept. But if making excuses to himself made it easier to do what needed doing, then he'd indulge in a little self-deception.

"Sync?" Ion pressed.

He shook his head to cast off the remaining cobwebs and stood up straight. Ion pulled his hand back. "I'll manage," Sync croaked at him. "But first..."

He took a few steps forward. It was no surprise when Tear and the others tensed. Sync ignored it and sank down to his knees. Taking care with his injured hand, he bent prostrate until his forehead scraped the rug.

As Tear and the others murmured in shock, he announced, "Please allow me to humbly apologize for all the trouble I've caused."

Someone stomped their foot. "'Trouble' isn't the half of it!" Anise exclaimed. "You think we're just gonna forgive you after what you pulled?!"

"No," Sync replied, slightly muffled. "Apologies are basically worthless. It's not like saying 'I'm sorry' will undo what I've done. I wouldn't forgive me if I were in your place, so if you hate me, that's fine. I accept that."

Guy made a low, thoughtful noise.

"Interesting," said the Necromancer. "Why bother with such an overblown gesture, then?"

"Because someone told me that if you hurt someone, it's proper to apologize."

"Sync..." Tear murmured.

"You don't need to go this far," Ion insisted, kneeling down next to him. "Please get up, Sync."

"If I didn't go at least this far, would any of you believe me?" But all the same, Sync lifted his head and twisted around to face Ion. Both of them stood up together - but once Ion was back on his feet, Sync sank back down onto one knee. He balanced his right arm on his upright knee, let his left hang at his side, and bowed his head with eyes shut.

"A bet is a bet," he said. "I am now yours to command, Fon Master Ion."

"I -" Ion began, but he was too startled to complete his thought.

"Say _what_?!" Anise demanded.

She wasn't the only one taken aback. The murmur from before became a babble, save from the Necromancer, who was conspicuously silent.

"Sync and I made a bet," Ion explained, then quickly outlined the terms where Sync would become his subordinate if he won.

"I see, I see," Jade finally remarked, tone light with insincerity. "Well, congratulations on winning your bet, Fon Master. How convenient for Sync that he is able to move past Van's death so quickly."

Head still bowed, Sync cracked an eye open and retorted, "Unlike some people I could name, I don't see a point in clinging to ghosts."

Jade sighed and half-shrugged. "I see."

"Ion, is this really a good idea?" Anise grumbled. "I know you want to be nice to him, but he's been throwing that in our faces this whole time."

"I understand why you're worried, Anise, and I'm sorry for being harsh, but you're just going to have to get used to it," Ion replied, expression gentle and tone unyielding. "This is my decision, and it's final."

"Fon Master, with all due respect," Sync interjected, still kneeling, "I'd recommend against alienating your Fon Master Guardian by shutting down her concerns about someone she hates."

Anise opened her mouth and shut it. Guy and Natalia shot her a glance, then exchanged one between themselves, Natalia's fingertips on her lips, Guy's arms folded.

"Thank you for your feedback, Sync, but she's going to have to work with you sooner or later," Ion said, turning back to him. "Please let me make a formal offer. Sync, I want you to be one of my Fon Master Guardians. Will you accept?"

His head shot up as the others suddenly went quiet. "What?"

"I don't want you to just work for me. I want you to protect me," Ion replied, undeterred. "I want us to protect each other."

Sync's eyes widened. "What... did you say?"

"I imagine after everything that's happened that you might be stripped of your rank or even discharged from the Oracle Knights when we return to Daath. I know fighting is an important part of who you are, so I want you to have a place in the Oracle Knights in case of the worst-case scenario." Ion's eyes steeled. "I won't let them get rid of you, Sync. I promise I'll protect you. And in return, you'll protect me." He smiled and held out his hand. "Will you accept?"

Sync didn't reply. He couldn't. Words failed him even as a flood of them rushed through his mind. Observing Arietta's relationship with her monster friends and the original Ion had taught him that one made bonds with others and gained a place in the world by protecting and being protected. He had no one like that on either side; he fought for Van, but Van didn't need him, and no one had ever fought for him... until recently, but Sync had refused to see it for what it was. Instead, he'd always interpreted it as pity and condescension.

Guy told him, _Protecting someone isn't just about keeping them from physical harm. It's also about looking out for them. You don't need to wield a blade to protect someone's heart._

_You'll stay here under our protective custody as my personal guest. I just don't want to abandon you,_ Ion had said.

_Please keep this hidden, all right? ...I'm just glad I _could_ do something for you._

_ You don't have to answer anything you don't want to, all right?_

Luke told him, _Ion really has been worried about you. He's been talking about you this whole time._

_ I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable, Sync._

_ That game was pretty fun! What did you think, Sync?_

_Let's leave it for later. We shouldn't bother Sync._

Tear told him, _There are people who would grieve for you if you died. Fon Master Ion -_

_ I can't help but wish I could be strong, like you._

I_ need you._

_ You're my treasured friend._

There were dozens of examples. _Dozens_ of them. No matter how many times Sync pushed him away, even if Ion never personally got anything out of it, he had never stopped trying to protect Sync by looking out for him. Ion had even literally told him as much the other day: he kept him nearby because he wanted him to be by his side.

"_Oh_," he uttered, still staring up at him. _All this time, he's been trying to make a bond with me. He's been putting in all this effort for _me_. Why did I never get it until now?_

"Sync?"

The former God-General shook his head to release himself from his momentary trance. "It's nothing."

_It's everything._

"I just..."

_feel really stupid right now._

"...wasn't expecting that."

Ion's hand trembled, as if on the verge of pulling back. "Will you accept?"

Sync met his eyes, which reflected hope and uncertainty in equal measure. He lifted his hand from his knee, hesitated a second that encompassed an infinity of possibility, and stretched it towards the hand held out to him.

"Yes," he said, clasping hold. "I accept."

It was embarrassing the way Ion lit up like the sun from out of a passing cloud, but Sync let him help him up anyway. Strangely enough, it felt like that radiance reached him too, allowing him a glimpse into the sky of a better life.

"Anise?" Ion said, turning toward her.

She sighed. "Yes, Fon Master?"

"As senior Fon Master Guardian, I put Sync under your command until he gets used to the new post. When he isn't answering directly to me, he'll take your orders. Okay?"

Her jaw dropped as Sync shot Ion a stare. "_Wait_. You mean I get to boss him around?"

"That's right."

Anise's eyes glittered like the edge of a starlit knife.

Behind one hand, Guy joked to Jade, "That's cruel and unusual punishment."

"Hahaha. It's quite fitting, isn't it?" Jade murmured back, smiling broadly. "I'm sure Sync will be very sorry indeed by the time he's all settled in."

"I've never had a subordinate before!" Anise cheered, either not hearing the two or not caring. "Hmmm, should I start with a foot massage, or a five-course dinner, or, ooh, how about a special mission to get me some cute new clothes? Decisions, decisions~!"

Sync grimaced at Ion, who smiled brightly in return. The others weren't much better, their reactions ranging from exasperated but resigned to outright amused. He sighed, then gave Anise the Order of Lorelei salute, drawing both hands together in front of his chest and bowing. "I'm in your care, Ionian Sergeant Tatlin."

Anise perked. "Hmm! I like that attitude! Keep it up and maybe I'll promote you to 'maybe not such a lying weasel after all'!"

Sync suppressed a wry half-smile. "...I'll do my best."

"Then let's start off with something simple! Let's see... A different dessert every day for a month ought to be an easy first mission for a big-shot ex-God-General, right~?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I could get used to this," Anise gushed.

"My, she immediately became drunk with power," Natalia observed.

Guy laughed. "Hang in there, Sync. And good for you, Ion."

"Yes, indeed!" Natalia clasped her hands. "Your persistence has finally paid off."

"Thank you," Ion said, smiling back.

_Persistence, huh,_ Sync thought. _I guess I was the only one who hadn't noticed._

"Yeah, this is great!" Luke enthused. "Sync, it might be tough, but you just gotta do what you have to, all right?"

Sync refocused on him and the others. "You aren't mad at me?"

Natalia rested a hand on her chin. "We were certainly cross with you at the time, but speaking for myself, I see no reason to hold a grudge."

Sync stared at her. "Really?"

"Sure. For me, it's what you said about apologies," Guy agreed, nodding. "You get how they can end up hurting the people you're trying to apologize to. It tells me you're thinking seriously about how we feel."

Sync had never thought of it like that before, and he didn't know what to say.

"Your mistakes aren't any worse than mine," Luke said. "You didn't even kill anyone. I'd be a real hypocrite if I refused to forgive you now that you're trying to change."

Anise pursed her lips and stared at the floor; Jade sighed and pushed up his glasses.

"I can't believe you people," Sync murmured. He glanced away. "It's just... unreal."

"What, you think we're lying?" Luke asked.

"No, I don't." Sync folded his arms, winced, and gingerly unfolded them. "But when I broke my hand, I resolved myself to getting hated. I never thought I'd be forgiven. It... makes me kind of uncomfortable."

Jade bowed his head slightly.

"Do you think you don't deserve forgiveness?" Tear asked.

He glanced away. "No, not really." He flicked a glance over at her. "But what you deserve and what you get are two completely different things, right?"

Tear smiled and nodded. "That's right." Her expression turned stern. "But don't be careless, either. That doesn't mean there are no direct consequences to your actions. If you really are sorry for trying to kill us, you have to be prepared to make up for it."

His eyes lingered on hers for a few seconds. Then he nodded once. "...Yeah. I understand."

Her smile returned. "I knew you would."

Sync smiled back, heartened. Whatever else he felt, he remained grateful with all his stunted heart that he hadn't disappointed Tear so much that she gave up on him, too. It was like - no, she honestly did believe in him, didn't she...? Not like he hadn't already intended on it, but just those four words made him feel like he really did have to do his best.

It felt strange, having something to live for. He didn't think he disliked it.

"Well then, now that that's out of the way," said the Necromancer, jarring his introspection, "we have a long ways yet to travel."

"Oh, yeah," Luke said. "We still have to get to Uncle and the others and let them know exactly what happened. At least we already saw Governor Osbourne."

"Then let's be going, shall we?"

Jade, Luke, and the others turned for the door and began to walk out. Only one person didn't immediately follow.

"Wait," he said.

Everyone turned to look at Sync. It made him self-conscious and he shifted on his feet for a second before he got his nervous reaction under control.

"I know I don't have any right to ask this," he continued, "but there's somewhere I want to visit before we leave Keterburg. Is that okay?"

"Where is it?" Tear asked.

"Somewhere on the outskirts of the residential district. It's a historical site."

"What, like a statue?" Anise said dubiously.

"It's more of a monument, really."

Jade frowned.

Sync took a deep breath. The next part would be especially tricky. "I won't be there long, so I won't ask you all to come with me. But I'm sure you don't want me unsupervised either, so..." He turned toward Luke. "You mind tagging along?"

"Wait, me? Really?"

"Unless you don't want to."

"I didn't say that! I was just... surprised." Luke looked at the others, then nodded to Sync. "Sure, I'll come with you."

Sync smiled slightly, then looked at Ion. "Fon Master, would you be interested in coming too? I'd rather not start my new assignment by wandering away from you."

"I'd love to," Ion beamed.

"I'm coming too," Anise said almost immediately afterward.

That was a snag, but not one Sync hadn't anticipated. "With all due respect, Ionian Sergeant Tatlin, it'll be faster with just the three of us," he told her. "We'll be back within an hour or so, so by Fon Master Ion's leave, please wait here."

She made a face at him and planted her fists on her hips. "You sound _really_ creepy when you're all polite like that."

"My apologies," Sync deadpanned.

"You can imitate the Colonel all you want! You're not going without me!" Anise turned around. "C'mon, Colonel, back me up here!"

"Actually, it should be fine with just the three of them," Jade said with a light shrug. "As long as Luke is there, there shouldn't be a problem."

"That's a surprise," Guy said as Anise gaped at Jade. "I thought you didn't like Sync."

"Oh, I don't," Jade replied, unfazed. "But I doubt Sync will skip town with a broken hand and several other injuries from which he's still recovering when he knows just how powerful the monsters in every direction are. Besides which, I know exactly where he's going and how to find him." He adjusted his glasses, then bored a stare into Sync. "So please don't make me have to come looking for you. It would be most... unpleasant."

Sync met his eyes. "I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

The next order of business was getting a map. Jade agreed to mark the best route to the monument Sync had been talking about if brought one, then excused himself to wait outside. The front desk in the lobby of Keterburg Hotel had city maps for tourists, and Sync picked one up. Tear asked to see where the monument was, but it wasn't on the map. Sync had figured as much. When he left to find Jade, the others waited inside for him. Sync wondered what was running through their heads when they watched him walk out the western entrance.

The Necromancer stood at the foot of the stairs under a street light, hands in his pockets, watching the falling snow. Without a word, Sync approached him and handed him the map and a black pen. As Jade looked it over, Sync rested his good hand on his hip and stared out at the townspeople who passed by without paying them any attention.

"I imagine you have a lot you'd like to say to me."

Sync glanced over at Jade, whose impassive eyes surveyed the unfolded map. "And if I do?"

"Then now is your chance to say it."

"...What's your angle here?"

"Your poor lot in life is a direct result of my research," Jade replied, taking pen to paper. "Now that I'll soon never have to deal with you again, I thought it only proper to give you the chance to say your piece."

Sync's lip curled. A small part of him was impressed that he acknowledged his own wrongdoing, but the rest of him... "When I tear you to shreds, Necromancer, it'll be on _my_ schedule, not yours."

"I see. That's fair."

He offered the map back. Sync resisted the urge to snatch it out of his hands. As he looked over the route Jade had marked, he added, "I will say this much: I hate Dr. Balfour's guts. His total inability to accept his own mistakes is absolutely the reason I've suffered. Everything about him disgusts me."

Jade said nothing.

"But," he continued, "as a Fon Master Guardian, I understand Col. Curtiss is discreet, influential, and a proven supporter of Fon Master Ion. Allies like that are useful." He folded the map and looked up at him. "Anise is the spy."

"Unwilling and under Mohs's command, yes. I figured that out."

That threw Sync for a moment. Then he shook his head. "That speeds things up, then. Mohs won't take losing his position lying down. To protect the Fon Master, it'll be necessary to uproot every last shred of his influence."

"Including the influence he has over Anise?"

"Exactly."

"Fon Master Ion will have my full cooperation, then."

The way he phrased that wasn't lost on Sync, but he nodded anyway. "Good. So glad we understand each other."

Jade didn't respond. Sync turned and went back inside. When he left again soon after with Luke and Ion, the Necromancer was nowhere in sight.

* * *

"Man, though," Luke said along the way, "Anise really is mad at you, huh?"

"She's got a right to be," Sync said, thinking back to the hug they'd shared. "Speaking of which, can I borrow some money? I'd better pick up today's dessert on the way back."

"You're really doing that?"

"Of course I am. Orders are orders."

"But you aren't doing it _just_ because you were ordered to, right?" Ion pointed out, sidestepping a pile of snow on the street.

Sync's mouth twisted to one side. He pretended to busy himself with studying the map for their next turn.

"Hey, Sync," Luke said. "What do you think of Anise, anyway?"

"What do I think of her...? She's okay, I guess. This way."

"D'you like her?"

Sync glanced at Ion, who paid silent, rapt attention, and covered his mouth with his good hand. When he was sure he wasn't turning red, he murmured, "That doesn't really matter, does it? What I feel about her is meaningless when she hates me."

Luke deflated. "O-oh... yeah, that's a good point..."

"I don't think she _hates_ you," Ion reassured him. "It'll be fine. You'll see."

Sync doubted that was true, but at the same time, he found himself hoping Ion was right. Friendship was out of the cards - it was his own fault, after rejecting it so many times - but if they could at least get along, he'd be satisfied with that.

"Oh yeah," Luke added. "What _was_ up with you suddenly going all polite? It was like you were a totally different person."

Sync snorted, but in amusement. "What, you think I'm rude and mean all the time? I know how to have a civil tongue. I just choose not to when I'm around you losers."

"Gee, _thanks_."

He snickered. "Seriously, though, it's the basics of survival." His smile faded. "When even showing your face is a risk, you learn how to tell people what they want to hear."

"Oh, I get it." Luke paused, then stopped in his tracks. "Wait, does that mean you were just telling _us_ what you thought we wanted to hear?"

Sync and Ion stopped too. Ion watched Sync with concerned eyes, but Sync considered a point in the snow near his feet.

"Part of it is that," he replied at length. "But I really was sorry." He turned his head away and clutched his left arm. _I realized it when Tear said she was leaving for the Absorption Gate... I liked her enough to want her to live. I seriously thought if she fought Van for real, she was going to die. I regretted not saying something about the Mt. Roneal trap before it was too late. If nothing else, I'm sorry for what I did to her. But it's a start... right, Tear?_

He shook his head, suddenly keenly aware of how Ion and Luke watched him, and pulled up the map again. "Anyway, we're almost there. Let's get going."

* * *

It didn't take them much longer to reach the so-called historical monument. As Luke and Ion found out, it was just a burnt-out shell of a house, half-covered in snow. At first they wondered if they'd taken a wrong turn, but Sync tromped through the snow and stopped right in front of it as if he'd reached his destination. They glanced at each other in confusion, then joined him, standing on either side of him.

"So... why are we stopping here?" Luke wondered.

"I told you, this is a historical monument," Sync replied, eyes locked on the ruined building.

"A monument to what?" Ion asked.

Sync looked at him. "The creation of the first living replica."

"The first living replica?" Luke echoed, eyebrows furrowing. "But that's..." He stopped. "Wait - is this -?" He shot his head up at the blackened beams. "Was this Prof. Nebilim's house?"

Sync glanced at him. "Oh, you already know about it? I didn't expect that."

"Well, uh..." Luke squirmed. "Sh-should we really be here? I mean, this is kind of..."

"Don't forget, the Necromancer himself gave us directions. You don't need to worry about wounding his precious, tender feelings."

"Who's Prof. Nebilim?" Ion wondered.

"She was a Seventh Fonist and teacher who taught private classes here in Keterburg," Sync replied, staring back at the scorched house. "Before that, she was a locrian colonel in the Oracle Knights, but that part's not important. She was the one who taught the renowned geniuses, Dr. Jade Balfour and Dr. Saphir Ortion Neis."

Ion's eyes widened. "Oh... Do you mean...?"

Sync nodded. "One day, Jade Balfour, who wasn't a Seventh Fonist, tried to use the Seventh Fonon in this very house. Wouldn't you know it, it exploded in his face. He managed to get away unharmed thanks to Prof. Nebilim, but she didn't get off so easy. Balfour and his alleged best friend Neis dragged her outside," he gestured to the drifts of snow surrounding them, "and when they realized it was too late to save her life, Balfour decided to make a replica of her." Sync stepped forward and turns a sardonic smile back at his companions. "It didn't go so well."

Luke squirmed again and glanced away. Ion clasped his hands and stared at the ground.

"Anyway," Sync continued, "when it dawned on Balfour that the replica he made was not, in fact, the same as Prof. Nebilim, he tried to destroy it, but it got away before he could." He shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe it's still alive to this day."

"She. You mean she," Luke retorted, looking up angrily. "It wasn't her fault she was born!"

Sync puffed out a white breath. "That doesn't really matter, does it? It - she - was made, and she wasn't what her creator wanted her to be, so she was slated for destruction. That attitude has formed the backbone of organic fomicry to this day. Only replicas that can serve a purpose are allowed to live. Once that purpose is over, they're thrown out. That's just how it is."

"But it doesn't have to be that way," Ion argued quietly.

He sized him up. "That's true. You're a replica in a position of power. It's not public knowledge that you're a replica, and the biggest blocks to you using that power are either dead or discredited. If you can take advantage of those facts and seize control, you might actually be able to start changing this rotten world."

Ion blinked in surprise. "You really think so?"

"That's what I'm banking on, anyway. Don't disappoint me, Fon Master."

"Right. I'll do my best not to let you down."

"Is that why you brought us out here?" Luke wondered. "Because you wanted to tell us that?"

"Not exactly. I came here because I've always wanted to see where it all started." Sync turned around, first to stare at the burned building, then at the fields of white around them. "I can't go back to the role I used to play. If I'm going to move forward, I figured I need to accept what I am. It's going to get shoved into my face a whole lot more now. You're both here because I figured you'd would want to learn more about your history, too."

"Sync... Thanks."

The three replicas fell into silence then, taking a few moments to take in the details: the broken frame that jutted into the air like dragon fangs, the broken, useless remains of a wrought iron fence, the clouded, shattered remains of what were once windows, and the scattered debris that had never been cleaned up in twenty-three years, peeking through the blanket of snow. At length, Luke rubbed the back of his neck.

"We'd better start heading back," he said. "We've still got a lot to do today."

"Could you head back ahead of us?" Ion asked. "We'll catch up in a few moments."

"You sure, Ion?"

"Yes. Please."

"All right... But don't take too long, okay?"

Sync glanced over his shoulder. When Luke had rounded a corner and vanished from sight, he turned around.

"Did you have something you wanted to say to me?" he asked.

"Not really," Ion replied, stepping up next to him. "I just wanted to spend a little private time with you."

"You're weird."

"Not really," Ion repeated, smiling slightly. "I think it's natural to want to be with the people you like."

Heat crept across Sync's face, and he turned away. They stood in silence together for a few moments; then Sync coughed into his fist.

"That reminds me," he said. "You said you envied me because I have my own name and you don't, right?"

"Yes...?"

"Did you want one? Your own name, I mean."

Ion's eyes widened. "I - yes, I do."

Sync slid him a smirk. "How about Octave, then? Starting with the original Fon Master, you're the eighth note up. A perfect octave. Fits, doesn't it?"

It _did_ fit, in a twisted sort of way. "That's kind of mean."

"Did you really think I'd come up with something nice?"

He smiled and shook his head. "No, not really." He folded his hands over his chest. "Thank you, Sync. I love it."

He glanced away, slid his good hand up his neck, and dug fingers into his hair. "...I'm glad."

Octave drew closer and rested his hand over Sync's. Their eyes met. Then, gently, Octave slipped his hand into Sync's. Sync let him, and together they walked hand-in-hand back to the people who were waiting for them both.

* * *

**THE END  
**

_To be continued  
_


End file.
